apii',i^»iiii,uii\u 



I 



7H(i.i.,i,;jiij;,r,!; 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



ODDDTTbDlED 



T II K 



SPECTRAL BRIDE 



33% 



*/^3 



A. IS.' T) 



OTHER POEMS 



B Y 



O^"^ EVERTS 



TIMES JOB OFFICE PPwINT 

LA POPvTE IND., 

1857. 



R E M A R K S 



This I'.tfle eolleotion, like a former one, "0-na-we-quah and 
other Poems," has been printed fur private circulation, the au- 
thor having no designs whatever upon the " Generous Pub- 
lic." Should it meet with the approbation of that limited 
circle of friends for whom it is intended, we shall be more 
than repaid for what little trouble it has cost us ; should it 
fail of this, all vre can promise, is, to do so no more. 

To our brethren of the Press for their uniformly kind no- 
tices of " 0-iia-we-quah," we take this opportunity of return- 
ing sincere thanks, with our acknowledgment of tho courte- 
bies thus generously proftered us. 

7Vwe,v' Office, Lnpm-te, May 1857. O. E. 



TO ONE 

WHOSE HAKD HATH BEEN' VVC^! MT HEART, 

WHO IvKOWS ITS BEAT, 

th::se pulses are inscribed 
by tus author. 



TtlE SPECTH^I. BRIDE. 

P A R T F I R S T . 



" Sleep hath its own world, 

And a wide realm of wild reality, 

And dreams in their developement have breath, 

And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy." 



I 

I stood upon the dreary shore of niglit. 
And looked beyond npon the land of dreams. 
Above, the faint moon tinged the clouds with light. 
Loss brilliant growing, with enfeebled beams, 
Drooping and pale. Beneath its sickly gleams. 
Covered with shadows, lay the sombre deep, 
Stretching afar its nndefined extremes; 
The dark, unrntUed, silent lake of sleep, 
Where mortals drown their cares, and oil forget to weep, 

LI] 



SI'ECTJRAL JJKIUK, 



If 



irpre had I coinc to soothe my troiiblcd iiuiid, 
And steep my soul in slumlxn- till the morn ; 
To breathe narcotic vapors from the Avind, 
And heal the wounds of passion's venoraed thorn. 
The past to all foi-gct, as one unlDorn. 
To drink oblivious draughts, and chain the power 
Of rebel thoughts, which had my bosom turn, 
And driven Fancy from her airy bower. 
To ti-cad with painful steps my brain in wakeful hour. 

II-I 

Gently the winds came o'er the waters bland, 
And cooled the fever of my burning brain; 
No magic touch of loving maiden's hand, 
Could so have soothed the madness of my pain. 
My heart grew calmer ; and the heavy chain 
Of memory dissolved its iron hold. 
The moon looked brighter — and the heavenly plain 
With stars was lighted, . ■nhich the clouds did fold 
Their dusky shrouds about, to be again unrolled. 

IV 

Long while I gazed upon them and the moon ; 
And strove to read with astrologic lore 
If in tlie future, life no other boon 
Than pain, or sorrow, had for me in store : 
And once I tried my voice along the shore, 
Without an answer : but the moon did vail 
Her face in darkness : and a mighty roar, 
A?; of a tempest mingled with tlie wail 
Of -.itirm-bruiscd waters did mv an\ious cars assail ; 



IPEr'TliAI. HHIDE. 



V 



Then died jnvay auiniic^ (lie f;i\-oriu'(] In!!-;, 
And all was still. Su1)dueil in spirit. 1 
Looked on the waters : listened to the rills, 
"Whose sooothiug murmur as they wandered hy. 
Won back my calmness, and my sympathy. 
The clouds were thinned to whiteness, like a mist 
I^'illhig the airy solitude. On high, 

Just where the moon's pale brow by heaven was hissod 
Watched by a single star, my eyes at length found rf>l. 

YI 

As thus I gazed, np<_)n the eartii roclining, 
The spirits of the realm came gathering 'round, 
The secret of my soul far off divining. 
And stretched my form in slumber starkly liound : 
How long I know not, ere tlic mellow sound 
Of music fell upon my sleep-soothed brain. 
By distance softened, stealing o'er the groun-d, 
As if to wake not by a ruder sti-ain 
The sense on which it wi'ouglit, changing its joy to pain. 

VII 

Delightful sound I Music is ever sweet. 
And stirs or calnis the spirit at its will ; 
Subdues the stubborn with its gentle beat. 
Or moves the sluggish Avith its magic thrill. 
Sweet are the wood-notes which the winds distill 
From forest boughs — the song of forest binl — 
The cheerful cadence of a mountain rill — 
The melting accents of a lover's vrord, 
When heart beats close to heart, bv other's ears unheard 



SPECTBAL BRIDiS. 



YIII 



Y(>t all, (IV iKdie of these, were like to this — 
J'^xccllinff iiatiir(3"s wildest, gentlest strain; 
'rranstorming sorrow into sweetest bliss: 
The spirit cliarmfd, forgetful of its pain, 
llestorecl to youth and innocence again. 
Thus was my soul by harmony entranced, 
And by those spirits, o'er the somnic main 
Boi'ne off, when 1o ! mine eyes were ope'd, and glanced 
Upon that shadi>\\v land, where dreams in troops advanced. 

IX 

< ) ! wondrous world of stranjjc^ reality ! 
Of fiction-gilded facts — of mighty fears ! 
Of magic pictures, born of phantasy — 
And truths rolled back from long forgotten years! 
In thy bright mirror, to our sight appears 
Things to be loved, and dreaded ! Prophecy 
Here hath her temple — and her altar rears — 
Omens attend, inspired, with auguring eye, 
And (ifivr sacrifice deep mystery to descry ! 

X 

Amazed I stood, as burst upon my view 
Auroral splendors — streams of roseate light 
Tinging the topmost clouds with orient hue. 
And flaming 'round the distant hills of night. 
The deep abyss of sleep was beaming bright; 
And from its caverns, memories long concealed 
Came forth, to wreak again ou mortal sight 
Fresh joy, or anguish, as their forms revealed, 
Of good, or evil past, forever unrepealed. 



spkc:tral r.niDE. 



XI 



Bright joys to rue were grante*! ; chikllioocl--(.lays;, 
^Vith all tlioir pleasures^ and their innocence, 
Gave back tlieir treasures — pictured in the blaze, 
And then full featured, living ! How intense 
The loolc of love upon thy countenance, 
Dear Mother! — watching o'er thy tender young! 
Hope, fear, ambition, each maternal sense 
That glads the heart, or hath the bof*om wrung 
There might I read, for those Avho sliU around thee clung. 

XI [ 

A- group of children ! Some with flaxen hair, 
And blue eyes tender as the light they shed ! 
Some darker ones — yet all surpassing' fair, 
And one — an angel form, with glorious head, 
And lips unsealed with knowledge of the dead : 
He nearest to his mother seemed to stand ; 
Yet all by her affection gently led, 
Were as one being, clasped by one soft hand — 
Embraced in one wide love: how simple, yet how grand ? 

XIII 

Then scenes of early youth came drawing near — 
Home of my Father, and my place of birth ; 
The house, the orchard, woodlands held so dear — 
The brightest spots, and best of all the earth! 
Still green in memory, when age's dearth 
Has withered most things, fresh, and full of joys, 
These things appear — still growing in their worth, 
As we reach out like children for their toys, 
And cherish them in thought, as in our hearts when boys. 



10 SPi;CTliAI. UIMDE. 



XI \' 



Then, Learns of inauliuod clustering on my In-ow 
1 saw in e sitting in the moon''s bright beams, 
With visions 'rapt more joyful e'en than now 
Were spread before me in this land of dreams. 
Such hopes were mine as truth scarce e'er redeems, 
And love was painting on my glowing brain 
With burning pencil, form of her who seems 
E'en now, perfection ! and I saw again 
That which in after-time might bring remorse and pain. 

XV 

And she, the loved one. near her mother's cot 
Beneath the boughs of peach trees growing there 
Appeared beside me. Oh ! the blessed lot, 
With trembling hand to smoothe her glossy hair — 
To spread the locks aT)0ut her brow so fair — 
And in her eyes so soft read love's delight — 
Eyes with whose lustre nothing could compare ! 
And feel my own grow brilliant in their light 
As on her lips so oft I kissed the fond "good night:" 

XVI 

While yet I lingered — yet I could not go : 
Starting as lovers start, with boyish fear — 
Timid 'though innocent. ( O, were it so 
In after life, how many a scalding tear, 
And broken heart, left desolate and drear, 
Had earth not known, and man not answered for ! ) 
And staying yet, imtil the moon waxed low 
Ne'er thought of sin or shame her peace to mar, 
Who was my young heart's life, my destiny, my star! 



fci'KC ri; Ai- imiDE, 11 



XVII 



Agiiin ■\vc walked amid Spring's early bloom, 
li^resh as. the flowers, as pure, and she as fair ; 
While chosen blossoms, laden with perfume, 
I plucked, and wove in garlands for her hair. 
xVnd she did sing to me, old songs, so rare, 
So full of life, of hope, of melody. 
An inspiration from the charm-ed air 
Fell on my soul, and touched with harmony, 
A cord that trembled long with unbreathed minstrelsy, 

XMII 

Once more in Summer's luxury of leaves, 
Beneath the cooling shade of ivy-vines 
Which her hands planted, climbing to the eaves 
Of that blest cottage, did our arms entwine ; 
Richer in joys than Bacchanals in wine — 
Feeding on looks and kisses! Her bright eyes 
Beaming with trust the while, were glassing mine, 
That knew no earth, no heaven, no bended skies. 
But love's own boundless realm, and her my heart's groat prize f 

XIX 

Bird of iny young heart's nestling! still thou hast 
A being iu uiy thought, more perfect there 
Than painte* pictures, though on silver cast. 
And drawn in sunbeams, perfect as they are. 
As evening lovely, and as morning fiiir, 
Still must I deem thee — still my yearning heart 
Thus pour its treasures out, from fountains where 
Arc love and adoration ! Still a part 
31ust thou bu of my being, whercsoc'er ihuu art. 



l:i SP?;CJ'KAL BKIUK. 



XX 



As thus I saw, and felt, Uie vision passed, 
And with it many an unforgottcn thing. 
Fit memory have I, 'though they could not last ; 
Like all oux* joys forever on the wing : 
Like all our joys, too, not without their sting. 
Yet we embrace them, heedless of the pain, 
And love in after-time again to bring 
Their shadows o'er us, and to feel again 
The hopes, loves, fancies, of our youthful teeming brain. 



o 



THE SI^ECTH^L BHIDE. 

PARTSECOND. 



-There is a fire 



And motion of the soul which will not dwell 
In its own narrow being, but aspire 
Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; 
And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore. " 



I 

Onec more I looked, mid lo! Lef'ore my eyes, 
Rustling its shaggy locks, a mighty wood, 
Primeval ia its grandeur, hid the skies, 
And shut the world out from its solitude. 
Deep in its shade a lonely youth there stood, 
Carewoi'n, and silent, with an anxious mien, 
And yet his dark eye flashing, unsubdued. 
Shot forth quick glances over every scene, 

"Though naught from some deep purpose seemed his thought tt 
Wean. 



14 • .SI'EUTKAL BR]1>E. 



11 



At length beside a cooling spring he knelt, 
That welled in silence from sweet nature's breast, 
And bended low his head, us one who felt 
His spirit with deep thirst too long oppi-essed : 
But ere his lips the water had caressed, 
A hand unseen smote him upon his face, 
And from the spring arose a spirit dressed 
In flowing robes, gauzelike, and full of grace: 
One hand a wreath upheld, the other bore a mace ! 

Ill 

Upou such beauty had his youthful eyes 
Ne'er gazed before. Abashed, yet worshipping 
He would have flown, but found he could not rise, 
Fixed to the earth, an abject, menial thing! 
He felt no pride within his bosom spring — 
And all his features were suflliscd with shame ; 
He knew not why, but full of suffering 
Upon himself he heaped a weight of blame ; 
And when the spirit asked, denied he his own name ! 

"Barest thou appr()ach, bold youth ! this sacred spring' 
The spirit said — "and hope thy thirst to slake 'i 
Unbidden come, without an offering 1 
Who drinketh here a sacrifice must make. 
And on his soul a solem oath must take 
Which shall it bind forever ! What sayest thou 1 
For me, all liuman loves thou must forsake — 
Break every fetter — wash out every vow — 
And toil without reward, save this, upon thy brow !" 



SPEraniAL BRIDE. 



V 



lie felt the wreath upon his cold brow fall 
With such a thrill, as in his heart unsealed 
New fountains, that gashed forth, and flooded all 
His being with hot streams, before congealed, 
Yet swollen, and throbbing oft to be revea-led. 
His eye avert, full on the spirit turned — 
His brain with sudden transport giddy reeled — • 
Ambition's fire within his bosom burned — 
Fame, Knowledge, Poesy — all other loves were spurned ! 

VI 

The spirit vanished as a thing of air — 
The vast wood like a mighty mirage fled — 
The earth was left a desert lone and bare — 
'The sky was moonless, starless over head — 
And black-winged clouds above us soon were spread 
Casting no shadows. All was dark and drear. 
The winds seemed stricken with instinctive dread — 
The waters trembled Avith delusi\'e feai- — 
And ghostly fjrms seemed flyiug through the atmosphere, 

\U 

Yet all was silent. Nut a pulse of stiund 
Beat through the dull air. Deatli without a knell 
Pervaded earth, and air, and the 2:)rofound! 
At length a single star shone out to tell 
All light was not extinguished, but soon fell 
Toward the earth, and cjuickly was consumed 
As rain drop by the Ocean's hungry swell : 
And darkness had again its sway resumed 
As if no buddinsj rav of light had ever bloomed. 



M 'S.PECTRAL BRIDE. 



VIII 



But this was not for aye ! The wmds did rise 
And shake the darkness from their stirring wings ; 
The clouds fell drooping down the bended skies, 
And light gushed forth from morn's perj^etual springs, 
And music came again from minstrel's strings, 
"With song attended : and a youth drew near 
Bearing a harp. The song he sung still rings 
In memory's hall, with notes distinct and clear — 
And these the words that fell upon my list'ning ear. 

1 

Farewell to thee, bright land of flowers ! 

Of lakelets, spreading lawns, and groves ! 
The hour of parting darkly lowers, 

When I must wander from thy loves. 

2 

Ambition beckons me away — 

And Fame hath touched my youthful brow. 
The Tyrant Lcne hath lost his sway. 

And I have canceled every vow. 

o 
O 

I go not to the battle-field, 

Where brave men bleed and heroes fall; 
No bloody sword my arm shall wield — 

No servile slaves obey my call. 

4 

I envy not the conqueror's name, 

'Though linked with time-enduring stone : 

A richer meed, a brighter fame 
My soul prophetic., claims its own. 



fcPECTK.U. nuiDE. 17 



For I shall live in hearts of men 

When dust obscures the hero's bay — 
And breathe in menioried music when 

The marble shaft consumes away ! 
6 

Then fare-thee-well, bright land of flowers — • 
And thou ! who long hast held my heart 

A captive boimd in Love's green bowers, 
Farewell ! farewell ! We, too, must part ! 

IX 

The youthful minstrel's beaming eye betrayed 
More than his rude and simple song expressed ; 
The light whereof was brightened by the shade 
Of feeling which arose from out his breast, 
Like vapors from a Sea of deep unrest, 
Clouding his brow betimes e'en while he sunff. 
His soul inspired, yet seemed his heart oppressed 
By secret griefs, to which he gave no tongue, 

Yet could not all conceal the source from whence they 
sprung, 

X 

As died his notes upon the air away, 
A mist before my eyes usurped all space : 
And when again I saw, before me lay 
A maiden weeping: grief spread o'er her face 
Like whiteness o'er a lily. Full of grace 
'Mid all her sorrow, soon she 'rose and fled 
Like a young fawn ; her steps I could not trace. 
She left no footmarks on the sand, her tread 
So light and airj- was. as from my sight she sped. 



18 SPECXKAL JllUDE. 



XI 



But as I gazed in vacant wonder lost, 
A city seemed to rise out of the plain ; 
Beyond, a lake and forest. Streets were crossed 
By shaded sti-eets : and doAvii a lengthened lane 
Approaching it, the youth and maid again 
I saw, and followed. Not a word was spoken. 
As captives linked together by a chain 
Invisible, they walked: if it were broken, 
And both did know of it, their features gave no token. 

XII 

At length they reached a church, Avith colum'd front. 
Within whose port' a solenni stillness reigned ; 
And gloomy shadows felling in their wont, 
The eye's quick vision like a vail restrained. 
Long while I gazed before my sight regained 
Its wonted clearness ; when within that shade, 
With show of love not altogether feigned. 
The youth with tender arms embraced the maid, 
And fixed his eyes on hers, as they had never stnij'ed. 

XIII 

How beautiful was she ! Her loveliness. 
Each year acknowledged with its parting touch, 
Grown riper only by its long caress — 
'Though Nature erst had done for her so much ! 
Too beautiful for Age's greedy clutch 
To fix upon ere Time had run his sand 
Full oft, and mourned him then that beauty such 
Should turn to dust, stripped by his marring hand 
Of loveliness whose charms his icv tears demand ! 



.si'Kt'ruA!, i;kii)K. 19 



XIV 

Still in that portars gloom I saw them stand, 
Their looks grown sadder — locked in close embrace ; 
Tie pointing now as if to distant land 
He soon must hie him from their trysting place. 
Dark thoughts upon his brow I then did trace — ■ 
Which she had marked, with 0! an aching heart; 
Not all her anguish beamed upon her face, 
Although she paled at each impatient start. 
Still clinging to his breast, as if they ne'er could part! 

XV 

Not as before his parting ! — wishfully 
lieturning thence to press another kiss. 
To drink the love-drops from her dewy eye, 
Eeflecting lustrous gems that shone in his. 
Not now he spake of that absorbing bliss 
"Which once had never known a thought's suspense, 
When he had dreamed not how might come like this— 
Or that himself should stray from innocence — 
Or his heart glow for her with feelings less intense! 

XVI 

Trembling he spake — and 'though he made no vows. 
She with her tears baptized each new-born word. 
How often Love the heart with hope endows, 
And oftenest woman's! Now the air was stirred' 
With solemn sounds, as from an organ, heard 
Through lengthened corridors ; then fiercely driven, 
As they the anger of the winds incurred. 
Dark clouds swept o'er us — and my ears were riven 
With one wild shriek that echo'd from the arch ot Heaven ! 



20 Sl'KCTKAL lilMUK. 



XVII 



The scene dissolving like a thing of frost, 
Left naught but clouds, which lowered upon my breast. 
The lake of sleep its troubled billoAvs tossed, 
And groaned, as with the upward deep oppressed. 
The spirits moaned, and beat the air, distressed, 
With wings all impotent, like demons hurled 
Prom gates of bliss — ^bright region of the blest! 
To realms of outer darkness, and the world 
Where Terror's gloomy wings 'forever are unfurled ! 







THE SP^ECTH^L BTIIDE. 

P A R T T H I R D . 



" I stood in unimaginable trance, 

Aiid agony that cannot be remembered ! " 



-He walked alone, 



And phantom thoughts unsought for troubled him, 



I 

Again I saw. A dreaiy light alone 
Was filling space — and other shadows now 
Were flitting by me. On a ragged stone, 
Time-worn, and wrinkled, with a gloomy brow 
Deep furrowed by remorseless sorrow's plow 
He stood, whom late I thought no more to see : 
And had no power to move hhti thence I trow. 
For from the water's edge with burning eye 
I saw a serpent winding toward him stealthily. 



fePECTRAL BRIDE. 



II 



He saw it not ; but bending o'er the brow 
Of that huge rock, precipitous, he seemed 
To gaze intent upon the depth below. 
One step and he no more might be redeemed! 
His eyes were fixed as one who only dreamed 
Yet walked as reason-guided and awake : 
Bidding the waters hear him, he had leaned 
Far o'er the brink, a fatal leap to take, 
When to the deep this prayer I heard him wishful make. 



"Come seal my vision, and my aching sense ! 
Steal o'er m.e with thy mantle dark, that I 

May weep — 
Weep no longer tears hot thou may'st staunch 

O sleep! 

2 

"Long have I stood upon the shore of night 
And gazed most wishfully upon thy face — 

Dark, deep — 
Deep, dark, in which I now would quench my light 

O sleep! 



'•'In thy realms all unintelligible — 

Where dreams come, and are monsters, such as niake 

Flesh creep — 
Creep with abhorrence — these I fear not still 

O sleep! 



SPECTRAL BRIDE. -^o 

4 

•'This waking day of thought and misery — 
This harvest day of anguish hot, wherein 

I reap — 
Reap pain, remorse, and sorrow I would fly 

O sleep ! 

5 
Ope' wide thine arms ! O slumber ! bring thy chains ! 
Bind me with fetters which 1 can not break — 

And heap — 
Heap darkness upon darkness ! Hide my pains 

O sleep ! 

Ill 
In vain I thought to rescue hira from death. 
My limbs would move not, and my heart oppressed 
Refused its motion. Hard I strove for breath. 
While clouds like mountains weighed upon my breast. 
A moment more and he had been at rest. 
With none to check him — but a sudden freak 
Had changed his purpose. On his brow were pressed 
His fingers clenched — and with a frantic shriek 
(May I ne'er utter that which then his lips did speak.) 

IV 

For he cursed life — and he cursed man — and cursed 
All things upon the earth that are — save one: 
She who had borne him, and whose bosom nursed — 
From out whose threads of life his own were spun. 
"Thy fault my mother ! that this race begun — 
Not thine, the goal I've reached" he said. "Thy hand 
So true, had taught these fearful wilds to shun. 
And would have saved me from this desert land — 
And these hot tempests filled with siroc-memory's sand." 



24 SPECTRAL BRIDK. 



As thus he spoke, his stubborn heart subdued, 
Grew softer as with tender memories: 
And soon his cheeks Avith glittering tears bedewed 
Witnessed the melting of his burning eyes. 
His bosom heaved with deep convulsive sighs, 
As bowing low he wept. Then silent, long 
He sat and gazed upon the distant skies. 
And thought of home, of friends, of his own wrong — 
And then with trembling notes his voice broke forth in song. 



"What madness was it in my brain — 
What poison flowing from my heart, 
Recoiling like a venom'd dart. 

To pierce, to pierce and sting again — • 
That bade me I'rom tliy fair fields part?" 



"The years like biauiding coursers fly — 
The circling months coil swiftly round, 
Since, madly, from thy loves unbound 

Tve wandered underneath a sky 

That evermore hath darklv frowned !" 



"Earth has no paradise but one: 
The Eden of our youth and love. 
Transplanted from the realms above ! 

Yet I, as man liath ever done, 

Have fall'n. and wander from the grove!" 



SPECTRAL liP.IOE. 



4 



"The of curse Cain is on my brow, 

'Though I have shed no brother's blood 
Within my breast, the True, the Good, 

These are the murdered ones ! — and now 
I seek the desert's solitude.'' 



YI 



While yet he sang, in outline dim appeared 
A phantom city, known in other clime ; 
And in its midst a solemn church upreared, 
Whose bell bequeathed the air melodious chime : 
And organ-pipes gave out their tones sublime, 
As if by spirit hands the keys were played. 
And spirit forms were seen in pantomime. 
And one lone human shape within the shade 
He shuddering saw move on, in bridal dress arz*ayed. 



VII 



He saw her pass the column'd front where he 
Had pressed her pale lips with a parting kiss ; 
And thought from all her charms to set him free — 
Forgetful of each pledge of happiness, 
Drawn by delusions toward a dread abyss ! 
When in the precincts of that sacred wall. 
They soon should link their loves in wedded bliss. 
She passed the door : his name he heard her call — ■ 
Then echo startled on tread through the empty hall. 



2G SPECTRAL BRIDE. 



YIII 



And then beside an Altar, clothed in roljes 
Befitting more a mourner than a bride — 
Just where the rays of two dim-lighted globes 
Converging fell — no being by her side — 
With features calm and pale — her tears all dried — 
As if in mockery to fill the vow 
Which she had spoken — spoken first with pride 
By him who sought and won her love, but now 
Looked on its ruin dimm'd by distance' lowering broAV : 

IX 

He saw her stand — and look, as from on high 
Some long deferred relief would soon appear. 
Silent as sculptur'd marble — not a sigh 
Escaped her bosom pent, and not a tear 
Fell from her eye, still beaming dark and clear. 
Too calm she seemed — as one whose heart some pang 
Of untold grief had stilled, or broken ! Near, 
And nearer yet, the snake uncoiling sprang, 
And in the youth's pained side fixed deep his poisoned fang ! 

X 

Gone was the shadow — but the serpent's hold, 
Rankling and deep, in vain he tried to part. 
His flaming eyes that like a demon's rolled 
With burning malice pierced his wounded heart, 
While on each nerve the poison left its smart. 
And 'round his form the scaly monster coiled, 
Albeit he struggled, and with sudden start, 
In giant efforts for his freedom toiled, 
'Twas yet with such a foe, forever was he foiled. 



SI'ECTHAL I3KIDE. 27 



XI 



At length o'ercome upon the rock he lay 
And gnashed his teeth in bitter agony ; 
And wished for power his tortured flesh to shxy : 
And cursed he more, but not his enemy ! 
Sonictliing he said of Life, and Destiny — 
And many words 'twere wickedness to tell, 
How God made man without his wish to be — 
And gave him passions which he might not quell, 
And all, that he might suffer burning pangs of hell ! 

XII 

When lo ! a spirit rising from the wave, 
Dark as the deep, yet lighter than the air, 
Above the rock appeared as from the grave, 
And whispered to the gathering winds " despair ! " 
Then plunging deep was lost none might say where. 
But others followed — others darker yet, 
And dripping from the water, their long hair 
Let fall upon him drops of liquid jet. 
Until his poisoned form with venozned dews was wet. 

XIII 

Then came a bird from far-off darkness screaming — 
Flapping his wings still blaqker than the night. 
From titf whose shores where not a star was aleamincr. 
They bending bore him in his rapid flight, 
As hunger driven or with vengeful spite. 
And curving high above the rock where lay 
The stricken youth, he gorged his greedy sight — 
Then swooping downward perched upon his prey. 
While danced the sprites about, and joined their hands in play 



2S SI'ECTllAL HUIDE. 



XIV 



And then a skeleton of kingly size 
And crowned withal emerged from out the spray. 
With nakecl teeth and cayernous dark eyes, 
And hair all mold, mossing his temples gray. 
Had you been there your 'fears had taught to pray — 
But him — no dread of future life, or v<'oe, 
Could more distress than his own present clay : 
Himself had ever been his own worst foe, 
And death presaged relief v/here'er his soul might go! 

XV 

And still the serpent kept his rankling hold, 
And drew his form around with slimy trail ; 
And curved about with windings manifold, 
And shook with joy pialign his trembling tail. 
His striped body armed with glittering mail 
Coiling, and looped, and never motionless. 
Its links drew closer; nor did ever fail 
His fangs still deeper in that side to press — 
While coursed each burning vein the liipid of distress. 

XVI 

As thus he lay the vision of the wood, 
The spirit of the spring, Avith wreath and mace. 
In all her beauty, in the distance stood, 
And looked unmoved upon his piteous case. 
One ray of hope a moment 'round his flice, 
Feebly illumed his death-like countenance ; 
But fled again, as he beheld her grace 
Slowly retire, and turn aside her glance. 
As one who knew him not. nor cared for his mischance. 



1 



SFECTRAL BKloa. 29 



XVII 



Then felt he more and keener all his woes. 
A loud and scornful laugh rang in his ears. 
His poisoned heart renewed its painful throes ; 
And deepened all his anguish and his fears. 
lie knew no prayer — and scorned repentant tears! 
Nor called on God or man to aid his cause — 
Old in his pride 'though youthful still in years ! 
Spurning the faith which truth from heaven still draws, 
And heedless all of Nature's sweet suggestive laws. 

XVIII 

Yet as he thought how false the spirit's form, 
Severely chaste, and coldly beautiful, 
For whom he had foresworn the glad and warm — 
The loving, innocent, and dutiful — 
Whose real charms no fancy could annul : 
Who now, if near him, could his pains assuage, 
And heal his wounds with simples she might cull 
From out her knowledge — he did inly rage. 
And struggled like a lion chained Avithiu a cage. 

XIX 

Then did liis no.strils with hot hreath expand — 
His chest dilate — and his dark eyeballs flash! 
He seized the serpent with a giant-hand 
And held hirii trembling like a whipmaa's lash ! 
( Yet would his fangs relent not from their gash.) 
And from the rock with one strong spasm arose, 
Like the yc>ung oak, that 'bides the whirlwind's crash— 
And stood ereat, defiant of his foes. 
And bore with manful breast the burden of his woes. 



SPECXKAL BKIUE. 



XX 



And thus he would have conquered, had he not 
Exulting in his strength new-found, defied 
Too soon the powers that bound with gordian knot, 
And scorned to ask for guardiance or guide, 
To mark his course — and with a ruthless stride 
Escape attempted : — too, too soon, alas ! 
Lost in a maze no fjot had ever tried — 
Stumbling o'er rocks, entangled in wild grass — 
And hemm'd with hills about, with fronts of steel and brass. 

XXI 

And still the scrjient must be ever hold — ■ 
The dark bird o'er him constantly must fly, 
Deep shadows casting where-so-e'er unfold 
His heavy wings, obscuring all the sky ; 
The air still rending with his piercing cry. 
That through each fibre of his being thrills ; 
To which a thousand echoes shrill reply 
From every crag and crevice of the hills. 
Bewildering more his sense, and multiplying ills. 

XXII 

Still on he wandered : now beside a lake 
That tempts his parched lips, and his seared feet, 
But when he stoops his burning thirst to slake 
Moves fiirther on, a false and phantom sheet! 
Now where two streams in giddy whirlpool meet 
In vain he strives to buffet the strong tide. 
And backwra'd driven must fatigued retreat — 
Ilecross ravines, reclimb the steep liill side, 
That often with red fuot-marks in his blood is dyed. 



.SPEC!TRAL BRIDK. 31 



XXIII 

And long he wandered in a lonely glen, 
With rocks like battlemenis high towering 'round; 
And heard the lean wolf growling in her den, 
Chiding her whelps with savage snarling sound : 
And lynx-eyed monsters crouching on the ground 
With bloody passions often threatened sore — 
And drove him, frightened, with a fearful bound, 
To seek again the long-deserted shore, 
From which he once had strayed, but saught for evermore. 

XXIV 

At length he reached the summit of a hill 
That overlooked a smooth and fertile plain, 
Toward which the waters leaped in many a rill. 
With pattering feet soothing as summer- rain. 
But many leagues he yet must walk to gain 
The pleasant valley, where he hoped to rest. 
And find relief from his consuming pain ; 
Yet with new vigor on his way he pressed. 
And to his task of life each new-found power addressed. 

XXV 

But when he thought his journey nearly done, 
And put forth all his strength for one long leap 
To reach the goal, already fancy-won; 
He found the precipice a mountain-steep, 
And far below a river broad, and deep, 
Yet dark and silent! Disappointment-crushed, 
He would have plunged, — but down his limbs did creep 
An icy coldness — and with breath all hushed. 
Upon his flice he fell, from whence a life-stream gushed. 



32 SPKC.'TRAL BlilDK, 



XXVI 



As thus he lay the clouds tlissolvcd in rain, 
As grieving o'er the fallen victim's wrong! 
Once more he Tallied, and to end his j^ain, 
Strove hard to drag his weary weight along : 
But the foul fiend with many a living thong, 
And scaly mesh, his weakend limbs re-bound'; 
And the dark bird v^'ith beak and talons strong, 
Held him subdued upon the stubborn ground, 
Close on the beetling brink of that dark chasm profound. 

XXVII 

Then was his proud will broken — and he cried 
"Forgive! forgive! Ye heavenly powers restore! 
Or bear me quickly to that Lethean tide 
That laves Eternity's Plutonian shore ! 
Respite in death — I ask for nothing more ! 
Long have I struggled — long have I endured : — 
Vain my philosophy — in vain my lore ! 
Cursed the ambition which my heart allured, 
Inflicting on it wounds that never mav be cured ! " 







THE SI^ECTHA-L BKIDE, 

PART FOURTH. 



-Beware I 



The heart shall heal not which my fangs have stung I '* 



I 

The rain had ceased to fall — but still in fear 
I looked upon the suH'erer's anguish wild; 
When lo ! I saw with graceful steps draw near, 
One whose sweet countenance, and accents mild, 
Marked her as Nature's fiiirest, favorite child. 
And as upon the youth she cast her eye 
With pitying tears o'erflowed, he would have smiled. 
Had not his lips, long writhed in agony. 
Refused him power such feeling now to gratify. 



34 SPECTRAL BRIDE. 



II 



Not like the vision of the spring was she — 
Nor her, the groomless bride of that dark scene, 
Which time could not clTlice from memory — 
Prom whom his thoughts he never more might wean, 
Albeit old age and distance grow between, 
And widen like the circles of the sea ! 
Less beautiful indeed, she might have been — 
Yet lovely was she in simplicity — 
Pure, noble, innocent, and filled with sympathy. 

Ill 

And yet the more I gazed upon her face, 
The lovelier grew her features. Her pale brow 
Betokened lineage of a noble race — 
And her bright eyes were more than lustrous now ! 
Her form was such as Nature doth endow 
Her flivorites with ; attired with modesty, 
Yet liberal as virtue would allow 
Of charms bewitching in their luxury : — 
But more than all was her sweet look of charity ! 

IV 

Low stooping then upon that stony bed, 
Beside the fallen, she moved back his hair, 
And gently raised his almost lifeless head, 
And wiped the jjain-drops from his brow with care, 
And gazed upon him with an anxious stare. 
As if to drink the source of all his woes 
At one deep draught ! And yet she saw not there 
The snake and cormorant, his 'venomed foes 
Whose flings still rend — and poison through his heart still flows. 



Sl'ECTKAL BKIPE. 



V 



Bat the}-, dark spirits ! soon her presence felt ; 
And 'though Ly her unseen, the demon bird 
On frightened wing, far oft', where hope ne'er dwelt, 
Hied him away : and as the serpent heard 
Her mellow voice, at every soothing word 
Eelaxed his scaly folds reluctantly, 
And writhed as if Remorse himself incurred 
llegret, and pain, and other penalty 
Sprung from forbidden fruit of Eden's fabled tree : 

VI 

And once recoiled him as in act to sti-ikc — 
But fearful turning glided through the grass ; 
With many a twist he took his course oblique, 
O'er rock, through brake, o'er bog, and deep morass, 
'Till reached at length a dark and narrow pass, 
His form was hid from mortal eye secure : 
But left behind, his sting, which she, alas ! 
The maid with all her charms might never cure, 
And he in after sorrows find its pains endurej 

VII 

Frail strength returning to his tortured limbs, 
The victim rescued, leaned upon his guide 
And followed blindly. (Earth before him swims, 
And not forgotten all the spectral bride, 
Erysh pangs offc pierce him from his wounded side.) 
By winding paths she led him where a spring 
From grassy hillock welled, a sparkling tide, 
And sprinkled from the feathers of a wing 
His pallid brow, and lips their life-blood back to bring. 



oO SI'KCTUAI. ]!i;iliE. 



Vlll 



And from a cup of crimson-colored shell 
She offered him a cool refreshing draught ; 
AVhich, as he drank, he felt his veins reswell 
With life elastic. Long and deep he quatied; 
And pain transfixing him with fiery shaft, 
Quenched by the searching water ceased to wound. 
His eye, once more with light rekindled, laughed — 
But not as once — for 'though his heart did bound 
.With hope renewed, each throb bore melancholy sound. 

IX 



Now in his breast her ministry had wrought 
A seeming cure of his dire malady : 
And fain with look and thankful word he sought 
Full well to show his gratitude — but she * 

Who erst had pitied, all unconsciously ^J- 

Found in her bosom need of stronger tic, 
And hid her face bedewed with tears when he 
Spoke of their parting — and another sky 
Beneath whose darker frown his way must after lie. 

X 

Too deeply skilled in human sympathy, 
Dark as his fate had been — he knew too well 
The lurking passion — and instinctively 
Shrunk from its shadows as they o'er him fell. 
Once had he owned the magic of its spell — 
And once in youth upon a fiiiry barque 
Explored its waters, breasting many a swell. 
Skilled in its wavs even now, 'though doubly dark 
Its boundaries, breakers, shoals, deep waters could he mark. 



Sl'ECTKAL imiDK. 



XI 



Yet ncvpr more he thought to huinrh hid boat, 
Or to the fickle whids unturl his sail — 
Upon love's dmig'rous waters more to float, 
To tempt again the fitful blowing gale. 
But as he looked upon that being frail, 
Who needs must wreck upon some desert isle, 
And to the winds in sighs her fate bewail, 
Shut out from joys of earth and heaven's brigiit smile, 
Would pride of ancient mariner his heart beguile : 

Xll 

And from its fount there gushed a ruby tide. 
That flushed his cheek, aiul rc-illumed his eye! 
That gurgling spring had stretched its borders wide, 
And looked a sea beneath a sunny sky. 
A boat was moored in eddying bay near by : — 
He clasped the maiden in his ;irms, and strode 
With wonted strength and love's full energy ; 
While from her eyes bright tear-drops joyful flowed; 
And soon in careless ease upon the sea tliey rode. 

xm 

As j)tur.';-ed l)li't! lliat sits upon the ^^a\■e. 
AVith sunbeams glancing frcm its downy bi'cast, 
While underneath its '"living- oars'' it laves, 
And glides the water 'spite tlic wind's behest — 
In gracefid motion, or as graceful rest — 
So seemed they, and &o dallied in that bay, 
Curving by turns towai-d the (.'ast vv west 
The buoyant thing beneath llieiii as in ]i1ay — 
llien setting sail they s^ied bel'ore the wind away ! 



^8- SPECVrUAL UKIUE. 



XIV 



As flew the boat, I heard along the shore 
Mysterious voice: 'twas not the night-bird's shriek— 
'Twas not the winds ; 'twas not the sea-suri's roar ! 
'Twas not the moan of pines, or cedar's creak ; 
It died into a murmur on the bleak, 
Bleak winds, that gathered rapidly and bold. 
Driving the clouds about with curious freak; 
Marshalling lances piercing, sharp, and cold, 
As through the winding glens, and o er the hills they roll'd ! 

XV 

Again 1 heard it, and was chilled with fear, 
So plaintive was it, yet so full of woe ! 
Nor did the sound escape the boatman's ear: 
And all its portents well he seemed to know — 
And swerved as stricken with a mighty blow — 
Yet turned his back upon the shore, as flew 
The shallop under as if from a foe ; 
While she beside him of no danger knew ; 
Strong in her innocence, and to all virtues true ! 

XVI 

Oil came the winds, nor halted in their tread 
Walking the waters ; lifting from the sand 
That lay beneath full many a fathom spread, 
I\Iountains of liquid, towering high and grand ! 
But held them only till their arms had spanned. 
Then hurled them back into the dismal caves — 
While storm-ficnds, gathering at each hoarse command, 
Spread o'er the waters, 'stride the recreant waves, 
Like irobliu-demonfe hauntiuii unt^hrieved miscreautb' ijraves. 



SPECTRAL BRIDE. 



XVII 



The boat sjicd on: and for a thing so frail 
Nobly it seemed the fearful waves to ride ; 
Which dosing eagerly embraced its trail, 
As from their grasp the flying thing did glide. 
Like frightened bird escaped, with panting side, 
!From deep-mouthed threatening of some monster snake. 
Coiling and leaping with huge jaws spread wide, 
Intent its victim soon to overtake. 
So seemed it, and so flew, nor in its speed did slack ! 

XVIII 

Nor did the water cease to rear its crest, 
Again to sink — to lash itself again ; 
Mad, wild, convulsed — torturing its own breast 
With passions growing stronger in their pain. 
The boat sped on — but every cord nmst strain. 
Or the next billow whelms it: — ah! it passed! 
Still free, but trembling, o'er the waiery main, 
On, on it flew before the avenging blast. 
That shrieking rent its sails and bended low each mast ! 

XIX 

Still by his side that being calmly stood, 
Unconscious of all danger, or of fear. 
Unmoved she looked u|)on the stormy flood, 
That threatened soon to prove a watery bier, 
And bear them on to death's dark humid pier, 
In that old harbor where each mariner 
Of life's rough ocean must at length appear 
And cast his anchor : — where no breath shall stir 
His sails though long he wait: the sleeping winds defer. 



40 SPECTRAL BRTDK. 



XX 



Aroused not, yet from an emLlissiiig tvance. 
She liad not marked the black and angry wing 
'I'hat spread above — or seen tlie fiery lance 
That stabbed the. air with fearful lightning-spring, 
'^lid thunder-tones louder than battle's ring, 
Gleaming with burning point and blazing shaft : — 
Nor heard she yet the storm-fiends shriek, and sing 
Their requiem o'er the dead engulfed, while laughed 
Destruction, deep down, as each living thing was quafled! 

XXI 

I watched the boat beyond a point of land 
Where barren rocks looked down with frowning face 
On many a sparle^s wreck upon the strand ; 
And much I feared the dangers of the place : 
But well he seemed his chartless course to trace. 
Now rising on the billow's foamy crest, 
^Mounting the blue — high up in " pride of place," 
Like soaring falcon seemed his barque to rest, 
Then downward swooping spurned the waters from its breast, 

XXII 

Again the darkness o'er my vision spread 
Its blackest vail : and while timiultuous fears ' 
Like rolling billows pressed my aching head. 
My lids were touched obliterating years 
From sight and memory. How many tears, 
How many sighs, how many bosom-shocks 
Of sorrow, or remorse, not now appears : 
I woke as Time was shaking from his locks 
The morning dews, that dripping trickled o'er the rocks. 



a'[ 



mm 



mtscella>;eolg poems, 43 



MUSINGS. 



'Midst all our sorrows and desponding gloom, 

When sober sadness weighs upon the brain, 
Some brighter thoughts will ofttimes ask for room — 

Some sweeter thoughts, to soothe the spirit's pain; 

And oft we '11 con them o'er and o'er again. 
What though they mingle with the darker hue, 

Receiving shade ! their features still retain 
The loveliest form, and glisten like the dew 

On sombre leaf, or drops of sunlit rain — 
Bright jewels which the ciouds o'ershadow all in vain f 

It may be in the night — at midnight hour 

When naught but Nature's own unceasing sound' 

Disturbs the silence. Dew upon the flower, 
And moonlight o'er the forest depths profound, 
Casting their shadows on the tufted ground, 

Stealhig through bough and leaf all silently, 
To gaze on earth and us ! The spirits bound 

With strange emotion ! Beauty, mystery 
Are over all things ! Majesty hath crowned 

The universe, still rolling in its vasty round ! 



44 MISCKLLANEUUS I'OKMS. 



^\ e gaze the while, and fool upon our brows 
Impress of thought the mind , cannot control 

Or utter perfect ! Though the spirit rouse 
And stir within us, wrecked upon the slioal 
Of its own weakness falls the aspiring soul 

Eack to its earth ! We wander 'mong the trees — 
The sound of falling water fills the ear 

With tones familiar ; while the wanton breeze 
Is playing lover — kissing off the tear 

From some sweet eye, still beaming bright Jind clear. 

A thousand voices sj^ring from leafy beech, 

From moss, and gtass. On every tree and bush 
Are katydids, disputing some high breach 

Of insect virtue, which they keep all hush. 

Anon, a deep-toned solemn sound will gush 
From some lone pool, where grave and stately frog 

Has his abode, on broad and generous leaf 
Of water-lily, or damp smoldering log 

That holds his form. He has his secret grief. 
And grumbles nightly — -mayhap, too, he finds relief. 

Alone, perchance, on moss-grown rock w^e sit, 

Witli dreamy eye avert, o'er which the light 
Soft feet of moon-bearns dance, while round us flit 

The soft cloud-shadows. Lovely, beauteous night! 

Fit time for thought, or prayer of anchorite ; 
Spirits might bring, or angels waft them hence, 

Of eaith untainted in such mcssagery 
At such an hour ! when every feeling sense 

Accords with nature in its purity : 
Sight, sound, focliiig; tliuught. and wish, ul! in liiirmc'ny. 



MISCKLLANEOrS I'UKMS. 4o 



If thoughts of lovu on wings of spirits cunie, 

Oh, liow intense the feeling in onr In-east, 
Absorbing all things! E'en the busy hnni 

Of Nature's laborers seems in silent rest. 

T-be moon glides on with gently arching crest, 
Unnoticed still — for now the soul is full 

Of voices and effulgence all its own ! 
Brightness unseen ! voices unutterable ! 

The God of Passion now sits on liis throne. 

And wields that univorse, the human heart, alone ! 

<«► 

friendship I dear friendship ! joyous now she eonies 

With rosy children brimming full of glee, 
Laden with spices and sweet-scenti'(l gums, 

And golden fruit from youth's Hesperian tree; 

Oh ! how our hearts are yearning now toward thee ! 
Unblest without thee — though we feed on crumbs, 

Captive to want, chained by harsh povei'ty — 
Thy charming smile each bitter pang l^eiunnbs: 

Thy voice is cheering, too, as reveille 
Kousing the soldier from his morning reverie ! 

Ambition, too, may seize the aspii'ing sou!. 

Bearing it otf, in such an hour as this, 
On eager wings, to somj trauscenilenl g')a! 

High up in realms of soft ethereal bliss, 

Forgetful of incumbent wretchedness. 
In cloud-built jialace, fiurple canopieil 

And silver cinlainetl, which the mooulieams kiss 
Ami fly away, ambrosial feasts are sjiread ; 

And roinid ihem, aiuhulent in goi-geous dress, 
Briiiht spirit-forms awalL the lairv Fame's caress! 



4G MlHCELhAKi;or.^ POEMS. 



There may it enter, revelling the while 

With beings like its own. irradient, 
Yet sprung from earthly tenements as vile, 

In which sad years of bondage had been spent : 

Now free, and soaring toward the iirmament 
On plumed wings glittering in splendor, dyed 

In gold and amethyst, with pearls besprent 
Eicher than Egypt's Queen quaifed in her pride, 

Feasting her Anthony with mad intent 
To win the prize, and him by costly blandishment. 

But these are moments lasting not for aye ! 

Gone with the thought; like dreamy vision, fled, 
Leaving no shadow ! Swift the moments fly ! 

The moon is sleeping in her ocean bed, 

And morn comes o'er the earth with amorous tread, 
Burning with love and beauty ! From her eye 

Beams forth such lustre, o'er the world is spread 
Effiilgence rare, reaching the endless sky ! 

Hushed are the insect-voices! Time hath sped 
Another measure — gaunt, gray, remorseless dread! 



o- 



IIJSCELLAXKOLS POKMS. 47 



MY SOUL AND I. 



I said to my Soul — "Whei-e away ?- 
Thy wand'rings far off 1 would know ; 

Thy foot-steps I'll follow to-day, 
If upward or downward they go !" 

"V/ilt lounge on the bank of a stream 
Where harebells and violets grow — 

Of Nymphs and of Naiads to dream, 
While lulled by the soft water's flowl" 

"Or revel with bees amid flowers 

And hum a sweet song in their praise? 

Or mingle with birds in their bowers 
And warble with them forest-lays ?" 

"Or climb on the sun-beams aloft 

To realms where the Eagle 's unknown— 

And float on the ether so soft 

With spirits as light as thine own V 



43 Misf'Ru.AXKors pniiMfi. 



"Or sink into Ocean's deep caves 

And cliange with fair Mermaids thy vows : 

Or danee with them under the waves, 
And lift the damp locks from their brows ?" 



"And gaze on their moist beaming eyes, 
That seem to be melting w^th loves. 

That woo thee away from the skies, 
To dwell in their cool coral troves I" 



"Or sit 'mong the rocks and look down, 
To behold the sea-monsters at play — 

Or up at the waters dark frown. 

Ere its wrinkles are dashed into spray ?" 



"Or wander with noiseless tread 
Alone through the fathomless deep. 

To gaze on its wonderful bed, 

Where wrecks of all ages still slecj) V 

"Or fly to the mountains cold peak, 
And look down on the tempest below- 

And list' to the wind's awful shriek 
Beneath that calm region of snow ?" 

"Or sit by its foot, and behold 
The cataract leap from its side, 

And wash from its debris the gold 
Its raiserlv heart would still hide?" 



MISf'KLI.AKKOrS POEMS. 4^ 



"Or in its dark caverns go roam, 
By crystals and spars only lit; 

To talk with the (xhoul or the Gnome, 
While o-ohlins around thee shall flit?'' 



" Or off where the broad prairies lie 
Stretched out like the heavens above, 

Gemmed over with jewels that vie 
With star-fields in beauty and love ! " 

" Wherever thou wilt, I am there ! 

Thy wand'rings for once I will know, 
Through water, earth, fire, or the air — 

I care not so with thee I go ! " 



;My soul said in answer to me : — 
" Vain mortal. Go to ! — nor aspire 

To follow the steps of the free ; 
Or float on the wings of desire ! '* 



" What art thou ? — a menial ! a slave ! 

A subject of Death — and a thrall 
To the tyrant of greed — aye, the Grave ? 

To wait like a serf in his hall." 



*' Whilst I am an essence divine, 
That was, and that is, and shall be ! 

The boundless, Eternal, are min,e — 
But sporting a moment with thee ! " 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



" Then think not to foHow my flight — 
I go where no mortal may tread ; 

To regions of life and of light, 

Whilst thou must remain with the dead ! " 



o 



MISCELLANEOUS T'lKMS. 



THE STRICKEN CITIES. 



(This poem was written during the prevalence of the Yellow Fever at 
Norfolii and Portsmouth, Va., in September 18o5.) 



Hark ! from the South there comes a voice of woe 

Erom out the stricken cities! 

MorniDg awakes — and noontide's golden glow, 

And evening's purple are as in the past : 

And yet a pall as 'twere of darkness hangs 

Close o'er the scourg-ed cities. 

Morning awakes — but with it, not a bird. 

Of all the songsters, warbles notes of praise, 

Nor sound of joy or merriment is heard 

Throughout l,he plague-struck cities. 

The trees are green — yet droop their panting boughs, 

'Moug which the noxious breezes, lulled to sleep, 

Stir not, in deadly apathy. 

Without the walls are lowing herds, and kine 

Eeeding upon green pastures. Horses prance, 

And free from bit or chain, roam riderless. 

In all the streets there are no tram[>iiig sicpJ.s 



MISCKLLANEorS I'Ol.MS. 



Ill gay caparison, wilh rolling wealth. 
Luxury and prid" — haughty and human I — 
Only the creak of weary axletrco 
Death-laden, wending to and fi'o is heard. 
Bearing away the silent citizens. 

Where are the mourners now ? They too have gone, 
Or soon will follow, not in costly grief, 
AVith tremljling lips and weoping tear-dimniVl eyes, 
Mourning the lost with long-drawn retinue — 
But cased in rudest burial cerements 
With but a name and number to denote them ; 
Upon the corners of the streets they'll wait 
The gloomy undertaker! 

None else are seen, save hui'rying up and down. 
The bravest and the best of human-kind, 
The Doctor and the Nun to give relief 
Or consolation to the Fever-doomed — ■ 
With here and there a pitying faithful slave. 
Ready to die for those •whose hands- have bound, 
And lashed with e'en the cruel stripes of pain — 
For all beside un'reft of power have fled. 
The priests have gone. 
The opulent, the fiilse, the terrified, 
Upon the wings of fear have taken flight : 
Leaving to these, and such as these, the lield 
Of labor, and of praise — aye, more! of martyrdom. 

Day after day, night after n'ght, Azjiakl 
Spreads out his wings above tli.ni. 
]>ay after day, night after night, still stalk? 
The dread one throush the cities. 



.^ 



M1SCEI.LANK0US POIuMS. 51 



Day after day, night after night, the dead 
Go forth from, all the houses. 



Master and slave — sister in sister's arms 

Death-locked — mother and child — 

The friendless, nameless, and unknown — 

The miserly, and gluttonous — the pure, 

And they whose souls are steeped in rankest sin, 

All, all are victims to the scourge of him 

Who lets not, nor is hindered in his walk, 

Till God shall put forth from the skies above 

His arm of might, and stay tlit, pestilence. 

How blest are all our borders ! Health and strength, 
Bright sunshine and the gentlest falling rain, 
With sweetest dews that ever evening shed. 
Dropping like pearls upon the fresh'ning fields, 
To laugh the light back from the eyes of morn, 
Which open joyously upon the world ; 
Greeted by birds melodious, and the wings 
Of Hawks and Eagles, soaring from the groves 
To bathe themselves in ether and in light — 
Our fields all garnered in abundant store, 
With golden pyramids of freighted sheaves, 
And barns wfiose incense reach the bended skies! 
Oh! how our hearts should swell with thanks sincere, 
And from our weaitn what gu^-rdou should we give 
For all this good ! 



m 



51 



MISC'ELtANEOUS POEMS. 



LIGHT BEYOND 



How dark it seems ! and darker grows each hour 

As through this valley still I wander on. 

L there no path will lead me hence? — no bi-idge 

That spaas the gulf I fear 1 — no light beyond ! 

No mount like that which in my early youth, 

SuLlime appearing, beautiful and grand, 

Seemed like a summit from wliich man might hold 

Communion with the gods, which I may climb, 

However rugged, steep, or dangerous. 

Until these dismal overhanging clouds 

Shall be beneath me, and my brow jOxice mure 

Confront the skies ? 



Time hath not drawn a pencil through my hair, 
Nor age with cold hand shrunk my rounded form ! 
I know not wherefore I should linger here, 
Born thrall to want, and care, and wretchedness : 
I will arouse me from this lethargy, 



MISCELLAN'EOCS POEMS. 



And break the fetters of incumbent gloom : 
Ambition yet shall triumph ! and the world, 
Success applauding, then shall give me praise, 
Whom now it spurns unnoticed ! I will — 
But no : — how soon I do forget the badge— 
The brazen necklace of a life enslaved — 
Striving with strife unnatural and vain — 
Hoping where hope is not ; and self-deceived. 

There is no mount for me — no light beyond — 
No bridge that spans the gulf. Obscurity 
Shall be my portion : I will die a slave ! 
'Twas but a dream — a foolish pride-born dream — 
And this Ambition, like an errant knight 
Heavy with armor, makes me but his jade, 
To mount some nobler steed when glorious deeds, 
Or chivalrous exploits are to be done — 
Whilst I stand way-worn, panting in the shade. 

'Twas but a dream ! And yet there are in dreams, 
Such as in peaceful slumbers to us come, 
Sent from the world of spirits, or the realm 
Where Prophecy hath treasured up her lore. 
Deep lessons it were sometimes well to heed : — 
And now, bethinking me of such an one, 
I will relate it, for it gives me peace. 



'Twas yester'night — moonless as now, and cold, 
When sleep o'ertaking me, all sense was lost 
Of this my servitude and low estate : 
And disenthralled I wandered far and wide. 



IISCELLAXEOUS POEMS. 



I walked upon the house-tops in my dream : 
I scaled the walls of cities, and did stand 
Upon the pinnacles of highest towers ! 
From steeple-top to steeple-top was but a stride! 
The world was all beneath me, gulf and stream, 
Dark valley and high mountain all as one — 
And overhead the sweetly smiling skies. 
Mankind were not my company. I paid 
No homage at the thrones oi kings : nor sought 
For flattery, or place, or power, or gold — 
But only for a monument so high 
Eternal sunshine should forever beam 
Upon its summit, there to write my name. 
Such spire I found upon the ancient dome 
Of Fame's enduring temple. There I stood, 
And reached my hand out trembling with desire 
To carve my name upon the golden ball, , 
An emblem of the universe — when lo J 
Mine arm was palsied, and a heavy weight 
Painful and dragging bore me to the ground, 
And held me groping on the darkened street 
With loathsoma 'habitants, Toil, Want, and Care ! 



With these I struggled hopelessly as now. 
I made my habitation in a barn. 
Beneath the rafters bare and old, from which 
The dust of myriad silent laborers. 
The worms, fell on my eyelids as I slept. 
My bed was made of straw — the cricket's song 
My only music : — after that they came 
And gnawed my garments for their evening meal. 
The rain poured through the roof; and when it ceased 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 5*5' 



I looked up -. but no light was shining there. 

'Twas such a night, as dark as this aud cheerless- 
When climbing to ray loft a being came 
Whom I had loved in youth with all my soul, 
And bending o'er me with her graceful form 
She kissed my forehead as in other days ; 
And I beheld her as iu summer's sheen 
When we were lovers, and I innocent. 
I clasped her in my arms and all was light! — 
As if an angei now through this thick gloom 
Should stand before me, and these dismal clouds 
Before heaven's brightness be dissolved away ! 



I held her long and fondly to my breast, 
And felt her cheek grow moist upon my own. 
With tears that trickled from her melting eyes: 
And then the forms of those bright special ones, 
Whom I had buried from this world of pain. 
Having outstripped me in the chase of life 
And by the wayside fallen, 'rose and smiled — 
Such radiance beaming from their glorious brows 
As startled me with wonder and surprise ! 



The old walls vanished, and the roof was gone! 
A world of life and beauty shone around. 
And heaven itself seemed open to my gaze ! 
Ah me ! ah me ! 'twas but a dream — and fled 
As other dreams have done ! But ere my hold 
Upon the loved one in my arms was lost — 
(Dissolving gently as the twilight fades) 
And darkness had shut out her face and form, 



58 MISCELLANEOUS POEKS. 



I felt her lips press mine, and in my ear 

These words she whispered — " Be of better cheer ! 

True love is happiness I — there s light beyond!'''' 

Bow down, bow down ! Aye, it is well this head 
Too proud, should droop; and on my breast find rest. 
'Tis well these eyes that have aspired to gaze 
"With Eagle-like ambition on the Sun, 
All lustreless should weep; and on the earth, 
Dusty, and worn, and comfortless, be fixed. 
'Tis well this heart with slow and forc-ed beat 
Should pain my side with pulses, and be bruised. 
'Tis well these limbs with steps unfirm should bear 
My bending body toward the shelt'ring tomb. 
Let me not think with these sad limbs to rlimb — 
That thoughts like mine were ever born to rise — 
Or that this brow grown wrinkled in my youth 
Was made for stai'-lips or the Sun to kiss ! 
The false no longer shall destroy my peace. 
Ambition shall not goad me. Love alone — 
Such love as I have spurned shall lead me on. 
Nameless I'll wander: nameless be my grave. 
There's light beyond! Aye! blessed dream! Beypnd- 
"Where hunger is not, nor the wants of life 
Like wolves upon the fold destroying come. 
Where bands are broken, and loves paramount 
Lead willing captives to their soul's desires. 
Thither I journey — thither till the dawn 
Breaks in upon me, and the light so falls 
That not a shadow on my path remains. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 59 



A CHILD AGAIN. 



Within a wast and shady wood, 
A broad, deep, ever-living stream 

Flows on through depths of solitude 
As placidly as infants dream. 

And feeds on shadows — ^like the braia 
Ot' Poet-lover. Cloud and sky, 

Trees, rooks, boughs, vine, appear again, 
From its bright surtiice, on the eye. 

But what ii? strange of that pure streau. 

Deep-hidden in the lonely wild — 
Who ever sees its waters gleam. 

And drinks from thence becomes a child. 



A single path there is that leads 
To that bright water's flowing tide ; 



gQ MI3CELLANE0C3 POEMS. 



And he who walks therem must needs 
Go forward, — never turn aside. 

And by that single path there stands 
A man who tells a wondrous tale 

Of that sweet stream, and other lands 
Beyond, where life shall never fail ! 

But few pre they, though many hear. 

Who leave- the broad road, worn, and bare, 

To test the truth of that meek Sccr 

Who otters Jiuard" and guidance there; 

* 

And strives with loving words to win 

Each traveller that goes astray, 
That narrow path to enter in— 

Forever pointing out the way. 

And many are who scorn his tale 

And pass him by with gibe and sneer, 

Still following on the beaten trail, 
Laughing at those who enter there! 

Ah! what a wondrous eye hath He, 

Tl^at Prophet, Guardian, Sentinel- 
So full of love and truth that we 

May trust what e're his tongue may tell I 

I came— but cared not whither I 

Should wander— weary of the way ; 



iffSCELr.ANKOUS L'UKiiS. Ql 



No Citv saw — • no happier sky — 
No promise of a better day; 

Still following on the feet of men, 

'Till stopped by Him that warden bright !- 

Such man I ne'er had seen 'till then- 
He seemed the very Lord of light ! 

1 entered in. Though dark at first, 
So beautiful and bright it grew — 

With cooling springs to slake my thirst— 
I knew the tale He told was true ! 

And pleasant voices filled my ear, 

Of strange loves whisp'ring— bough to tree, 

And tree to sky — so sweet and clear, 
'Twere bliss indeed therein to be. 

But when at length I looked upon 

That broad bright stream, my hardend eye 

Dissolved with joy! My old heart gone 
A child, a child again was I. 



m 



(32 MISCELLA.NCULS POEMS. 



RETROSPECT 



Onee more I walk, where in my boy-hood days 

I loved to stroll beneath the shade of trees, 

Which spread their massive arms and generous hands 

Wide out above the grass and violets, 

That, grew below, and smiled like innocence, 

Protected from above. 

Here the hill-side — 
Here the winding stream, still wandering on, 
Like VIS, toward the great abyss— and here, 
The very spot on which I sat so oft. 
And dreamed of that I dare not think of now : 
While yonder, decked in gaudy robes, with, flowers. 
Blushing aid dewy garlanding her brow, 
A beauteous maid the spoiler had not wooed 
When first I saw— the lovely Prairie lies,— 
And yet how changed ! 



■A 



MISPKLI.ANEOrS POEMS. Co 



The hill-side slopes not now so gracefully ; 

The trees have vanished from their ancient realm— 

The stream is made to lohor on the wheel, 

With murmurs manifold, and sighs, and groans — 

The grass and violets have been plucked up — 

Deep furrows wrinkle o'er its care-worn brow, 

And fences staked and bristling stand along, 

Loking defiance upon either side; 

And yonder, now, the beauteous maid hath grown, 

In these few years, a granddam gray and old. 

Despoiled of all her beauty. 



O ! how sad ! 
How mournful to the eye of him, Avho gazed 
With rapture, and a sense of joy inwrought 
Upon the finest tissues of-his soul 
By Nature's all-pervading harmony. 
Thus to behold the ruin and the change, 
Which- man, 'though for a purpose, here hath made. 
Perhaps in wisdom, underneath the curse. 



Here was Youth's Eden ! Here the garden-groves— 

The wild fruit and the bloom — the busy birds 

With voices full of melody and love. 

Mingling their praise with incense of sweet flowers, 

Ascending through the leafy portals up 

To greet the coming of the glorious morn ! 

Here the Elysian fields, where hope, like bees, 

Grew heavy -thighed upon the blissful sweets, 

And flew away to build its myriad cells 

In fancy's airy castle ! 



64 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 



Here the lovely bower 
Wherein the moist-lipped Amor first appeared, 
Leading in guise of day-dream her I loved, 
Bidding me laieel and worship while he threw 
The rosy meshes of his tiower-net o'er me, 
And gave me captive to her gentle hand. 
Alas! alas! that youth was banished, and 
Love, too, is gone ! 

Yet, while my soul I send 
Through Memory's Avide reach in search of these 
Let me now turn my gaze within a while, 
And mark the havook ot those flying years 
That bounded off across the plains of time 
Like untamed coursers o'er their native sod, 
Unchecked, unfettered by the hand of man, 
As God had willed them ! 



What see I there'? 
Ah ! worse than on my native hill the change ! 
The trees of friendship which in youth's warm days 
Budded, and leafed, and sheltered my heart-flowers — 
Many have fallen! withered some, still there, 
A melancholy sign of what was once, 
On whose bare arms the moody night-bird sits. 
And fills the vacant chambers of my breast 
With sounds of mockery! 

My heart itself, then fresh and vigorous, 
As pure and innocent as Natui-e gave — 
The stream runs through it still, but labors now 



MISCELI.ANEOITS POEMS. 



With murmurs manifold, and sighs and groans, 
Dark furrows, too, the passions deep have plowed, 
In which the seeds of many thoughts are sown — 
The grass and violets have been plucked up, 
And fences staked and bristling stand along, 
Looking defiance upon either side. 

O, how sad ! 
How more than mournful ! I forgive the hand 
That stripped the hill-side, and that held the plow, 
That staked the fields about, and plucked the grass — 
That chained the stream to labor on the wheel — 
But he who wrought these changes in my breast, 
Him will I not forgive ! Say, who did it ? 

My soul returning from the mystic realm 
Of far-off" memory resumes its clay. 
And answers with a voice that startles me, 
" Forgive, lest thou be unforgiven ! " 



o 



t>G SIISCELXAKKOUS POEMS, 



LIGHT. 



How blest a thing is light! See it traverse 
With glowing footmarks now the morning sky, 

Mighty in mildness! O'er the universe 
Spreading its joy as beaming fiom God's eye. 
How blest a thing is light ! 

The light of morning, and the light of day : 

The light of rainbows shining through the clouds- 

The royal purple of the sunset's ray, 

The hill-tops clothing all in kingly shrouds. 
How glorious is light ! 

The light of Science, shedding on the mind 
Revealments which were miracles, unknown — 

Laws that are mighty — treasures unconfined 
To time and space, to mineral or stone — 
How wonderful is light! 

The light of joy irradiant^o'er the face, 

In earnest gladness playmg 'round tlie brow • 



MISCKLLANEOUS I'OEMS. 67 



Where sadness sat, now leaving not a trace 
Of Gloom's deep shadow, or Kemorse's plow. 
How glad a thing is light ! 

The light of Friendship wreathing in bright smiles 
As friend meets friend and grasps the proffered hand, 

Warming the heart, and softening with its wiles, 
The hardship past, and toil of distant land. 
How kind a thing is light ! 

The light of Love, that springs from out the heart — 
Lives in the soul, illuming, constant, pure — 

If but extinguished. Life becomes a part 

Of that dark realm 'twere wretched to endure ! 
Let us not lose that light! 

The light of Hope ! illusive, yet hov\' bright ! 

Lsa<ling us on with promise, valiantly, 
Dispelling fears, and holding back that night 

Which follows on our paths yet rapidly ! 
How charming is that light ! 

The light of Life — ah ! that indeed is Truth ! 

Th'High ever -living, dimly seen by men ; 
A single ray how bright — and yet iu sooth, 

Chaos ot creeds hath blinded human ken — 
How few have seen that liaht ! 



6S MISCELLAXEOUS rOEMS, 



ON PLUCKINg A FLOWER FROM CHILDREN'S GRAVES. 



Dear Babes : — as now once more I bow me down 
With reverence and tears, and pluck this flower 
From out the verdure of your hallowed graves, 
I do it in remembrance of your loves, 
x\nd all departed beauty, truth, and good ! 

Not you alone, with your bright cherub forms, 
Coined from the heart of purity and love — 
Not your sweet breath that made your mother's cheek 
Glow with such rapture, when your lips caressed — 
Not those fond looks, that opened in her heart 
New fountams, that gushed forth in teuderness — 
Nor those bright smiles, that filled her eyes with light 
And all the mansion of her soul with bliss, 
While ye were left to glad her loving heart, 
And chaer her weary pilgrimage f-^n earth, 
Do I recall — not these do I lament ! 



MlSCnLI.AXKULS I'UEJIf;. (')0 



But ! ihose Bribes — those Innocents — those loves, 
That once M'ere born, and in my heart did dwell — 
Glad inspirations ! — buds of promised" bloom ! 
Whose uncorporeal forms were no less bright. 
And shed their radiance round my youthful brow : — 
But like you, too, have died, and found a grave 
In the cold clay of time, and chance and deeds, 
And left it desolate of life and good, 
And me a cheerless wanderer in need — 
Them do I mourn, alas ! how hopelessly ! 



Fair ones ! upbraid me not ! your spirit forms 
I know in yon blue skies are with the blest : — 
And here, above your tombs, that only hold 
The seemless shrouds that once did wrap you in- 
I am forgiven when I thank my G(id, 
That you v.ere spared the sufieranee of life, 
And all the tortures of those hourly deaths, 
That never cease to make the human heart, 
A charnel house of murdered Innocents! 
Thrice happy children, that ye knew them not ! 



I pluck this flower from off your resting-place — 
It knows no pang of earth, and yields its breath : 
Its spirit, laden with such rich perfume 
To the ambrosial winds that blow above ! 
Ye, too, were flowers that blossomed into life. 
To ornament the graves in parents' hearts 
Of other beauties that had long been dead : 
Relieving sorrow somewhat of its gloom. 
Ye, too, were plucked, perchance by angel hands, 



70 WlfcCELI.A>EOrS I-OKSIS. 



In memory of such departed ones, 

And placed, as I do this, near to the heart 

As treasures full of meanhig, and of worth ! 



"O Earth!" your mother's heart, still bleeding cries, 
'" Cold, cruel Earth ! that thus hath robbed my breast 
Of its bright jewels, and life's greatest prize, 
Give back ! give back my Babes ! " 

So, too, I cry — 
" O Earth ! and thou, Time ! with all your brood 
Of circumstances, wrongs, and hapless needs, 
With which life struggles, and that oft have preyed 
Upon the offspring of my fruitful heart — 
Give back — give back my Babes ! I love them still — 
And find my heart doth bleed, that ye have torn— 
And faint, that ye have chilled — and ache, that ye 
Have bruised — iind will not now restore me ! " 

Tn this wide world of human life and thought, 
Erom out the soul, created pure and good, 
How many lovely things are born to die. 
Hopes, wishes, loves, ideas heavenly bright 
And innocent as babes ! 



illSCKLI.AN'.COrS rOEMS. 



TIME 



"Out upon Time!" — said the Lord of rhyme, 
With a lordly lip, in tones sublime ! 
Out upon Time! We say not so — 
Time is our friend, and never our foe ! 

He calms our fears, and dries our tears, 
And plucks the sting from many a woe. 

Time is the father of many years ! 
Many are dead — and many more 
Shall follow the shadows gone before. 
Yet weep not, for lo! death only deprives, 
That Time may find room and food for new lives. 

Rail not at Time! for our trust in him 
Fills the beaker of hope to the brim ! 
Bubbles of joy like foam on the wine 
Promise us nectar — bumpers divine ! 

We drink, and we drink, 

And our glasses clink, 
But never are empty, never sink : 
Yov a generous hand hath Father Time, 
And his vintages gush in every clime ? 



MISOEU.AXEOUS POKMS. 



D E M (J C R A C Y . 



Democraej ! 'Tis ever young ! 

'Tis ever fresh — 'tis ever new ! 
From blood of Martyr-Heroes sprung 
It never fades in lovely hue. 

Where Emp'rors tread in haughty power— 

Beside their paths — beneath their feet, 
Still s]:)rings the God-protected flower, 
And smiles their 'vengeful eyes to greet. 

Democracy ! 'Tis never old ! 

Though centuries since its natal hour 
Old Time with busy sands hath told, 

It blooms still fresh in Freedom's bower. 
Aristocrats may on it frown — 

Oppressive lords — they scowl in vain ! 
The people's hope when trampled down. 
Renews its life and strength again. 

Democracy ! It never dies ! 

Then call it neither young or old ; 
In every clime beneath the skies 

Its leaves and flow'rs shall yet unfold. 

The Prince may tread upon its bloom, 
The Tyrant crush its growing stem— 
'Twill only shed a rich perfume 
And grow again to outlive them ? 



illSCELLANEOUS P0KM8. 73 



L O V E'S FIRST GIFT. 

(for music.) 



If ere within my heart there moved 
A feeling that was all sincere, 

'Twas when I gave to her I loved 
The purest gem I»had, a tear! 

Love's holy gift — when from my eye 
It fell upon the cheek I pressed — 

The wealth of worlds could never buy 
The joy that filled my swelling breast. 

But now, these lids, oft bathed in brine, 
Like shells beneath a troubled sea, 

Such priceless pearls no more confine— 
Such joys no more return to me. 



74 MISCELLANEOUS P0EM3. 



THE DEAD 



Why do we mourn for the dead ? 

Are they not in Freedom's embrace 1 
Like serfs who have looked in the face 

Of their Tyrant, less noble than they ? 
And felt that their chains were disgrace, 

And proudly have cast them away! 

Why do we mourn for the dead? 

Are they not more blessed by far? 
Like heroes gone home from the Avar 

With laurels — whilst we in the field, 
In the moats and the ditches still war, 

Ere we to the conqueror yield! 

Why do we mourn for the dead? 

Are they not still better than we ? 
Like mariners gone from the sea, 

With its troubles, and breakers, and foam, 
Gone off from th' tempestuous sea, 

To peace, and the quiet of home. 

Why do we mourn for the dead ? 

What is their state, and our own ? 
Like emigrants gone to a zone 

Of beauty, of love, and of light. 
Are they — while around us, alone, 

Are darkness, and winter, and blight. 



MI3CELLA^"E0U3 l^OEMai. "75 



LOVE AND MADNESS. 



I live in shadows — like a castle haunted 

My brain is full of spectres— and my thought 
Grows wild — or weak and timid. Once I vaunted 
Great strength of heart and soul, and danger sought, 
Daring Heaven! 
Now, we're even. 

A braver heart than niirje ne'er put on armor; 

And yet Love vanquished me with bow and quiver, 
I knelt, subdued and wounded, to my charmer, 
Who led me straightway to a mystic river, 
And in its wave 
Baptised me, slavel 

I rose from out the water drunk and reeling, 

And wandered on the bank where'er she led ; 
My eyes were filled with beauty, and my feeling 
On soft and gentle touches blissful fed; 
And her caressing — 
It seemed a bicssinir I 



76 MlSCELLANBlOUS tOEM3. 



At length I wearied of the servitude, 

And longed for freedom, knowing not the arrow 
Was chaimed that struck me — and its woundings would, 
If I escaped, renew themselves with sorrow ! 
Alas ! the hour 
I fled the bower! 

I crossed the river, but its waters vanished, 

And hissing serpents crawled upon the slime 
That puttied o'er the rocks : all light was banished, 
And night drew on before its boding time; 
There was no light 
Of stars that night. 

! that long, lonely night ! so cold and dreary— 
So full of phantoms dark ! I could not pray — 

1 could not weep — niy eyes had grown so weary, 
So weak and weary, watching for the day ! 

The morning came, 
All red with flame ! 

All day I wandered — but I knew not whither : — 

No drink had I — or food. No stream or fountain 
But dried as I approached. The flowers did wither, 
And leafy trees that grew upon the mountain, 
As I drew near 
Waxed brown and sere ! 

Ah! then I knew my life had been enchanted, 

And turned tu seek the realms of love again, 
And bear its bondage — but, with courage daunted, 



MISCELLANEOUS P0EM3. ' 77 



I backward strove my steps to trace in vain; 
Nor did I ever 
Recross that river. 



But often since I've flmcied it were near me, 

And ran with boyish haste to ply its wave; 
And shouted as I ran, that she might hear me ; 
But when I came, I saw naught but a grave ! 
A new made grave — 
And 1 did rave! 



And ever since, just like a castle haunted, 

My brain is full of spectres — and my thought 
Grows wild — or weak and timid ! Once I vaunted 
Great strength of heart and soul, and danger sought, 
Daring Heaven ! 
Now, we're even! 



(10) 



MISCELLAKEOVS P0EM8. 



THAT BELL! 



Oh ! that mournful, mournful knelling, 

Sadly sounding on the ear — 
To our answering bosoms telling 
Of many-a tear ! 

Not alone that Mother sighipg 

O'er her last departed child — 
Not alone that Sister crying, 
Weeping wild ! 

Not alone that Father, bending 

O'er his yet unburied boy, 
Feels the power those sounds are sending- 
Drowning joy! 

Other Fathers — other Mothers — 

Other Sisters felt before ; 
And those feelings, time but smothers, 
Rise once more! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 79 



Wafted on that bell-note's sadness, 
How the mhad is Lovne avray — 
Forgetting every sound of gladness 
'Neath its sway. 

Some insensibly are carried, 

Turning o'er each sorrowing leaf. 
To some spot where once they tarried, 
Pull of grief I 

Mine to yonder sunny garden, 

Where the lovely "Lillie" sleeps — 
O'er my heart — ;sha'il it, too, harden ? 
Memory creeps! 

And that Bell! as oft I hear it 

Sounding sorrow to the air. 
Round my heart there seems a spirit 
Hovering there. 

And with muffled T)eat it seeraeth 

Touched by an immortal hand — 
While my soul suspended dreameth 
Of that land : 

Where no sounding notes of sorrow 

Tremble on the attenuate ear — 
Where no meraoried past can borrow 
Yet a tear ! 



&0 MISCELLAN'EOVS PO'JMS. 



T II E WAS AND THE IS. 



Away in the mist of past ages, 
The was-life of wondrous i*enown — 

("Which lives but in History's pages- 
And the tales which traditions hand down, 
Or in marbles that still o'er us frown) — 

Yet looks as if towering away 
Far above all the Is, or To-he, 

And a power still seemeth to sway, 
Though the present convulse to be free, 
And the future no prophet-eyes see. 

But only it seemeth — not real! 
A shadowy monster untruth! 

An image cf vapors ideal. 

That floats in the sky of our youth, 
Ere we see with strong vision in sooth! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 



And thus, Avhile we gaze it departs, 
And a better, a nobler appears; 

Th? h-Ufe more wondciful starts 

From its home iu the hcavenlj' spheres, 
And fills us \Yith hopes and ^vith fears ! 



And we rise, while our hearts strongly beat, 
And say to our fears, all begone ! 

They vanish, like clouds that retreat 
Before the all-conquering sun — 
And we nerve for the deeds to be done! 



Ah ! now does the youth feel his strength ! 
See his cheeks, how they glow ! and hi.3 eye, 

How it sparkles and gleams! till at length 
His soul reaches out to the sky. 
And his thoughts through the universe fly ! 



And his steps are elastic as air, 

Yet consciously proud — and his tread 

Over ruins of temples that were — 

And religion, whose priesthoods are dead, 
Is as if there no prayer had been said. 



The Is-l\fe is now all to him ! 

With a glance toward the future, inspired 

He moves .with his might every limb — 
His so-Lil with ambition is fired — 
And he grows in his task never tired. 



82 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



He triumphs! Ths truth is his sword, 

And the shams and the jyhantoms that are, 

Shrink back to untiquity's horde, 

To be buried with falsehoods that were, 
Whilst fame cverlastinw 's his share ! 



Oh ! Ihc /•> is L118 lifL) then fox- me ! 
Tha Was had its tasks and its men; 

And others will ci'owd the To-be, 

And laugh ;!t all this that hath been — 
But to me, what matters it then? 



iiu5 0f fife. 



LINES OF Llfa. 85 



I 



From infancy to youth I grew 

On planes where children seldom grow- 
Wliere no one seemed to feel or know 

That which I ever felt and knew. 

Ffonn youth to manhood much the same. 
When I reached out for sympathy — 
Though I knew many, noiie knew me — 

So much my nature seemed to blame. 

I looked my mother in the eye — 
Her eye repulsed me with a smart; 
I laid my hand upon my jieart, 

And wished that it might break and die. 

My father knew me as his son, 

But knew me not from all the rest : 
He knew no worst — he knew no best — 

Mankind to him were all as one. 

I took my sister by the hand ; 

Her touch was gentle, warm, and kind: 
But when I looked into her mind 

My wants she could not understand. 

At length one grew in whom I found 
All that I craved in brother man— 
A brother soul — span of my span : — 

But he, alas ! is under rrround ' 

01) 



S6 



LINES OK LIFE. 



II 



Love took my heart and sought a ^vife, 

Saying "who will have if?" — 'I,' said one. 
My haart leaped toward her, and there spun 

Through every vein new threads of life. 

But when my Soul looked out, and knew 
Whither my heart had gone, it said, 
"Come back! come back! without me, wed, 

Thy life to her will prove untrue!" 

And so my soul took back my heart 

And buried it within my breast; 

Saying "rest, thou foolish blind one rest ! 
For thou and I should'st never part." 

And though love since hath often knocked, 
And asked my heart to go astray, 
My soul refused to point tlie way. 

Or ope' the ceil wherein 'twas locked. 

And though it ofl laments its fate, 
And strives to be released, my soul 
Relentless, keeps it in control 

With "wait, a little longer, wait !" 



There 'II come a time, I know not when, 
Some one will ask my soul to sup : • 
Mv heart shall leap into the cup, 

And all as one sliali mingle then. 



LINES OF Lli'K. 



Ill 



ST 



The lights were out along the street, 
The lights above were growing dim, 
And I sat thinking here of him 

Who should have filled the vacant seat 



One who on such a night as this 

Three winters gone, had slipped away, 
And passing through the gates of day, 

Had entered into realms of bliss. 



My soul went out upon the roof — • 
The house-top of my highest thought, 
And saw above the sky o'erwrought, 

A silver warp on golden woof: 

And list'ning heard a sweet voice sing — 
"The world is as we will it, bleak 
And barren as the mountain's peak. 

Or full of life and love as spring ! " 

And then it saw how all the earth. 
And all the things therein were good : 
That Evil was distemper'd blood ; 

And not result of curs-ed birth !^ 

But then it said — "Y^ho can control 
The tide that flows from out the heart. 
If in its ebb it leave a smart 

Or joy i-evlve the thirsting soul 1 '' 



88. LINES OF LIFK. 



The clear voice answered Arithout pause, 
" Know well thyself — and what within 
Is writ, obey : — there comes no sin 

From Nature's sweet suggestive laws ! " 

"'Tis only when thou go'st astray, 
Vain follower and slave of creeds, 
Soul-famishing, which mock thy needs, 

That thou art blinded in the way ! " 



lt:?ks of life. 89 



IV 



Courage my soul — repine no more ; 

Put forth thy strength— put on thy wings ; 

The universe is full of springs — 
Is not the sea Leyond the shore? 



Thou canst not sail upon the land: — 
Look up! do not the stars invite? 
Some one is holding out a light, 

And some one reachinij out a hand ! 



Still crying, help ! God helps not one 
Who does not first put forth his strength. 
Stretch out thy limbs to fullest length: 

He first must walk, who e'er would run ! 



But are there not, in this broad land, 
Delusions, falsehood, fraud and wrong? 
May I not blunder, feeling strong, 

And step whereon I cannot stand ? 

Are there not pitfalls dug for me? 
Am I not hunted by the hound 
Society — that smells the ground. 

Pursuing all who would be free? 

Aye, true ! And so the flying hind 
Is followed by the menial pack ; 
But not for this should he turn back 

And scent with sighs the treacherous wind! 



90 LINKS OF LIFE. 



Look up ! See yonder mountain lift 

Its snowy simimit to the skies ! 

Along its steep side upward lies 
Thy path! Be brave, be strong, be swift! 

There is no foot shall follow thee. 

And where, above the clouds and storm, 
The sunlight stream eth glad and warm, 

And bathes with love, rock, vine, and tree — 

There's one awaits thee, whom, e'en thou 
Would'st give thy life but to behold ! 
Lo! wheie the clouds with light uprolled, 

Disclose her beauteous features now ! 



She beckons — ha ! thy lips turn pale — 
Thy limbs are trembling — and thine eye 
Is uttering speechless agony I 

Is this thy courage 1 O, how frail ! 



LIXKS OF LIFE. 91 



I am not weak. Nay, I am strong ! 
Look on me now ! turn not away : 
Behold me snap like threads of clay 

These bonds of Tyranny and wrong ! 

Long have I suffered — long in vain — 
Link after link torn from my flesh, 
As these wounds witness bleeding fresh — 

And these deep trenches dug by pain. 

But now — ah, now ! I feel my strength. 
My soul expands within — my heart 
Upheaves with sudden power 'to part 

The last dread link at length, at length ! 

Now see these muscles, how they swell — 
These veins with freedom's life-blood fill — 
This brow once more the throne of will — 

Now ! I could lift the gates of Hell ! 

Elysia ! thou for whom my soid 
Predestined longeth — wait, I come! 
I hear thy voice — my lips are dumb 

With joy, that knows^ not thought's control ! 



Once more — now ! now ! — my brain doth reel 
Mad with delight ! Sublime above 
All agony — triumphant, love 

Thus breaks throua;h bars of iron and steel ! 



92 LIN'ES OF LIFE. 



Back, back ye demons of despair! 
Dark, unrelenting, hideous fiends ! , 
It moves ! it moves ! the whole world c'reens 

Beneath my power ! ha ! ha ! beware ! 

Once more ! Ah me ! my eyes grow dim : 
My heart is broken: help! I sink: 
Freedom ! Elysia ! Give me drink ! 

Death now is falling down each limb. 

'Tis well, 'tis well, I did aspire 

Above my strength. Yet, not in vain. 
I see! Tho light breaks in again; 

And my soul freed, -shall mount still higher. 



O-NA-WE-UUAH; 



AND 



OTHER POEMS 






TIMES JOB OFFICE PRINT, 

L A P O R T E, 

INDIANA. 

1856. 



C^\ 



f^^. 



TO 

T. H. E. 

A SLIGHT TOKEN OP THE LOVE 1 BEAR HlSf 
THIS IS INSCRIBED BT THS 
AUTHOR. 



PliEFACS, 



This httle collection of Poems, of obscure birth and humble 
parentage, has been printed in its present form, for their better pres- 
^^rvation, and the gratification of personal friends, who have been so 
•partial m their judgment, as to request it; jind is not offered to 
the public either for sale or criticism. The Author therefore has no 
apology to make for their appearance or imperfections, and only 
hopes that they may answer the expectations of those, at whose 
suggestions they have been thus reproduced. 

O-NA-WE-QUAH, the principal Poem of the collection, is founded 
upon a Legend too familiiar to Western readers to require a special 
notice-and which has been so often repeated, or alluded to, that it 
has lost Its most charming feature. Novelty. It is simply this :-A 
Tribe of warlike Indians, known only in tradition, once occupied the 
central portion of the State which has received its name from mem- 
ory of them, and were the original possessors of the soil. By the 
encroachment of other Tribes however, from the East and North, 
who were captivated by the more genial clime, and better hunting 
grounds of the Grand Prairie, with whom the kuxois became 
entangled in perpetual warfare-in the process of time, this onCe 
powerful Nation became reduced in numbers; and refusing to amal- 
ganaate with other Nations, as was customary with fragmentary 
Itibes, the stronger party determined upon their final extermination. 
In this extremity the Illinois took refuge upon an immense Rock 



PKKFACE. 



that Stands in the Illinois River above the present City of Lassalle, 
having the appearance of a huge fortress, rising to an elevation of 
nearly two hundred feet from the present water mark, and covering 
an area of several acres at its base, only accessable at a single point, 
easily defended against a vastly superior force. The enemy finding 
it impossible to dislodge the fugitives or take the Rock by storm, 
resorted to the more civililzed, if less human process of Siege ; un 
known before in the history of Indian Warfare. Choosing death by 
starvation, rather than to yield themselves captives, and sink their 
nationality, almost the entire Tribe perished — a few only escaping 
to lose themselves amongst strangers beyond the Father of Waters ! 
The best rendition of this Legend which has been published, was 
written by Rev. Wm. Rownsville, now of Peora, Ills., then Editor 
of a Literary Magazine — and to whom the Author is indebted for 
tfie initial ideas of his Poem, as well as many acts of kindness, 
which he takes pleasure in here acknowledging. 
La Porte, Ind., March 1856. 



The Bison -slept upon the plain, 
The dew was dripping from his mane ; 
His lazy jaws were mumbling o'ier 
The grass they'd cropped the day before. 
The wild Deer saught the shaded brink 
Of moon-lit stream, to rest, and drink. 
The sleepless Wolf was on his trail, 
With peering front he snuffed the gale. 
Tne Beaver looked out of his cabin door. 
And the Otter played with shells on the shore. 
The wild Goose hooded her head in sleep. 
Resting her bosom on the deep ; 
Her hood was the nether down of her wing — 
And she rocked to sleep on the water's swing. 
In an old oak tree, on a leafless limb, 
Rested an Owl, in moonlight dim ; 
His wild t(Jo-hob,. through the forest ringing. 
Startled the child on • a bent bough swinging ; 
With the teetering winds -for a 'lullaby,' 
Its cradle a tree, its blanket, the sky ! 

And high above, on a rocky peak, 
Where nigbt-v,•ind^^ through the cedars creak, 
An Eagle was perched, from danger free. 
Scorning the height of forest tree. 
Which, far baneath his strong wing's play. 
Was, shrouded in mist of vapors gray. 
The Grouic-Cock watched by the silent hen ; 
The Serpent coiled in the slimy fen ; 
The innocent Hare with tuft of white, 
Sported his lirnbs in soft moonlight, 
Which 'round and 'round o'er valley and hill, 
Wa.s dancinq in fiiry-like loveliness still. 



O NAWE QUAH ; 



A IiBaXiND OF IIiLlNOIS^ 



THE WARNING. 

The brave Wau-bon-sie's camp-fire shouG 
Upon that brawny Oiiel' alone ; 
The light that fell athwart his brow 
Disturbed not his deep slumbers now ; 
Nor yet revealed with pictured beams 
Reflected back, the warriors dreams, 
A man of many years was he — 
Yet tyrant age had left him fi-ee ; 
Had touched not head, or heart, or liaud, 
The proudest chieftain of the land, 
Whose tribes, fi-om Michigan's wild shore, 
To where the Mississippi's roar 
Is heard forever, held their sway 
E'er since an unremembered day — ■ 
Land of the Potawattomie. 
He slept!— he'll sleep till morning's dawn: 
But where is she, the chieftains fawn? 
She who at early eve had sung 
A song that soothed him — and had flung 
A spell of beauty o'er his eyes 
As sleep shut out the star-gemmed skies! 
Where is she now? — his lovely daughter t 
And Avhy yon skift' upon the water ? 
(1) 



0-KA-WE-tiUAH ; 



Wau-bon-sie ^<]ept; and tented round, 

A thousand warriors pressed the ground ; 

All "waitmg for the coming day 

To light them on their pathless way. 

Ere breaks the morn they'll cross the river^ 

With sinewed bow and full fledged quiver : 

While yet the fog hangs oe'r the willow — 

While yet the mist obscures the billow — 

With painted cheek and croAMiing feather, 

Around their chief they'll silent gather, 

To follow where the war-path leads, 

(])'er rugged steep, or flowerhig meads ; 

To wreak upon their deadliest foe, 

A dread exterminating blow. 



But where is she, the chieftain's daughter? 
And why that skiff upon the water '? 
Why that shadowy form low bending, 
With the ripples almost blending ? 
Why that paddle's cheek carressing 
Silent wave-lips, softly pressing? 
Startled then, like timid lover. 
Springs she up as lightwinged Plover, 
-Aiid the buoyant thing beneatli her 
Glides like liglit through liquid ether ! — • 
That is she, Wau-bon-sie's daughter ! 
Now, her steps are o'er the water. 
Her father's blood flows in her veins ; 
Nor love, nor fear, her foot restrains ! 
Yet both are prompting now her steps, 
Through tangled wild, and forest depths. 
She knows her lover's life in danger — 
(Her heart to other fears a stranger) 
She knows her father stern and brave — 
She knows no other hand can save ! 
Her father's hate she braves, and dares — 
Her lover's fjite, she craves, and shares — 
If t'riuinph rest upon his plume, 
Or wild-flowers only deck his tomb. 



THE WARNING. S 



A captive once, an Illinois, 

Whose hated race her fiither's men 
With bloody hands would now destroy, 

Within her fother's tent had been 
A guest — (his father was a King — 
And he a prince of goodJy guise) 
And he had charmed her with his eyes, 
And taught her many a song to sing — 
Had won her heart, and lost his ovni 
In many an unforgotten tone, 
Ere yet the maiden's blush betrayed 
Her love, beneath the Burr-Oak's shade : 
And when released, the youth returned 
To where his native camp-fires burned. 
Beyond the river's parting tide — 
Perchance to seek another bride: 
Her maiden heart with faithflil beat, 
Had followed far his home retreat. 
No other love the bonds could sever, 
That bound her heart to him, forever ! 
What though her father's blood, and his, 
Might never mingle in love's bliss — 
What though her heart alone must wander, 
And on its past Elysium ponder — 
What though a bloodstained hatchet's gleam 
May wake her from foreboding dream — ^ 
True as the heart of woman still, 
Through every good, through every ill. 
She loves, as only woman can, 
And clings with hope to faithless man ! 



No palor, on her brown cheek spreading. 
Betrays the danger she is treading ; 
Her feet as light as nimble deer's, 
Are winged with love's elastic fears ; 
Her moccasins adorned with quills. 
Tread soft' as morning o'er the hills ; 
Her glossy braids of raven hair, 
Are floating 'round her shoulders bare, 



0-NA-WE-QUATi; 



Her swelling bosom, tinged with hue 

Of sunny brown, has felt the dew ; 

And gaudy scarf of crimson dye, 

Obscured its beauty from the eye. 

About her waist, a beaded belt 

Suspends a skirt of rudest felt ; 

Her rounded limbs, of tapering mould, 

Disdain protection from the cold ; 

Her eye — the Eagle's on yon' peak 

Hath not the power which her's can speak ! 

The mildest star in heaven's blue zone, 

Hath not the softness of its tone, 

When love hath kindled in its orb 

A light the heart may all absorb ! 

The lightnings gleam in darkest night, 

Is not more scathing in its light. 

When rage hath famied it into flame, 

And 'roused the blood no power can tame ! 



The moon had passed a promontory 

Of mountain mist, sublime and hoary ; 

And launched upon serial waves, 

Where rippling winds its bright keel laves, 

Was shedding full effulgence now, 

From burnished sides and silvery prow. 

It fell upon the antlered brow 

Of Buck, beneath the burr-oak bough, 

And glossing o'er the Bison's skin, 

Lit up his breath of vapors thin ; 

It fell upon the flying maiden, 

With love, and hope, -and fear still laden ! 

She gave one look to mark its oflUng, 

And then her feet the moments scoffing, 

Increased their rapid silent motion. 

Like moonbeams glancing o'er the ocean. 

Her shadow kissed the drooping rose, 

Nor waked the dew-god from repose; 

Nor plucked she from their beauties rare, 

A single gem to deck her hair; 



TUK ■WARNING 



Nor stooped, witli rival lips to }»Iy 
The tempting buds, beneatli her eye ; 
(The luxury of the woud-laud bee, 
That has its home in the hollow tree, 
And revels in arcadian blisses. 
With life prolonged in honeyed kisses.) 
But on she ])assed, and neared the g)'ove, 
Where slept the "vvarrior of her love ! 



No fresh turned leaf, no broken weed, 
Proclaimed the rashness of her speed; 
Her father's best of hunting men 
Could scarce have traced her thro' the glen — 
And when she reached the smoother prairie, 
Her steps were viewless, as of Fairy ; 
Or borne on Ariel's wmgs away, 
She'd left no touch of human clay. 



The grove appeared in distance dim, 

An Isle upon the ocean's brim ; 

No wave-worn steep — no breakers roar, 

Was seen or heard along the shore, 

And yet so like the watery main 

In silence stretched the unbroken plain, 

Forgetful of the -wild waves play. 

The dew had seemed like falling spray : 

While like a mermaid to the view. 

Swift fflidmg o'er the surface blue — 

Or spirit risen from the grave. 

With power to still the murmuring wave, 

With buoyant faith to light her steps 

O'er all its slumbering caverned depths, 

Had seemed the maiden in her flight, 

Beneath the moon's transfiguring light. 



Obsciu-e at fa-st, at length appear 
Upon her eye, distinct and clear, 



0-NA-WE-QUAIi; 



The outlinos of that woody torin 

That long had braved the fire and storm — 

That mighty shade of emp'ror oaks 

Wrapped in their dark o'ermantling cloaks, 

Majestic, dignified and grave ! 

The elements could ne'er enslave ! 

They laugh at time and bid the wind 

Spare not, nor yet the clouds be kind! 

A brotherhood of trees — they stand 

In friendship joining arm and hand; 

Regardless of the hurricane 

In terror sweeping o'er the plain — 

Regardless of the wild fire's gleam, 

(Protected by the belting stream) 

'Though like infernal waves it roll, 

Loosed from the burning lake's control, 

And leaps as with malignant joy, 

Each thing of earth to all destroy ! 



And yet, a grander sight to see 
Might never chance to mortal eye, 
Than, gazing from impending hight 
Out through the cloud-envelojDed night, 
To see upon the verge of earth 
A single ray of light have birth. 
And tlii'ough the caves of darkness far 
Shine out like distant glimmering star, 
Or torch light through a dungeon's bar ! 
And change, as changes sick man's lamp. 
Seen through the night air chill and damp, 
Moved by some tender woman's care, 
Whose angel form is hovering there, 
Her heart magnetic to the woes 
That rack his fevered form with throes ; 
And flutter, — fiiintly rising still, 
Like Ignis-fatuus, o'er the hill ; 
(That spii-it of the dank old tombs 
Which oft the burial cone illumes) — 
Perchance to hover o'er the graves 



THE AVARNINli. 



Of lHint>i:s' yluinltcriiig Braves — 

Till Jo! like bursting lungazliie, 

Or Etna's flash, that flame is seen, 

Thrustinir its toiiirues of fire on high. 

Lapping the clouds, from out the sky, 

And zoning heaven with its deep dye ! 

Now, like a liquid lava tide 

It rolls away on e^•el•y side, 

Bounding — Leaping — 

PI unging — Creeping — 

Dying with the winds a\vay — 

Crawling slowly through the hay — 

A waving line of light, no more — 

Mapping out a dark sea shore ! 

Blaek beyond as Pluto's cave — 

Then, again, like maddening wave, 

Roaring, foaming, 

Lashing, crashing, 

Onward dashing — * 

Or like troop of fieiy steeds 

Through the gra^s and through tlie weeds, 

Tossing up their gilded manes, 

Scorning bit or bridal reins — 

O'er the marsh, and o'er the knoll, 

Beneath the spurring winds control — 

Where shall be their ending goal ? 

Now, again with slackened s))eed, 

See it on the dry sods teed ; 

Then like snorting sentinel, 

Climbing up the heath-clad hill, 

See the burning element 

Tread like life the steep ascent ! 

Now around the summit spread, 

See it mock its char-top'ed head — 

Haging 'round its temples jet, 

Brilliant, flaming coronet ! 

Snufling then the fitful gale, 

Like a ship with burning sail 

Onward moving : — let it pass — . 

Other springs and other grass 



0-iNA-WE'QL"AI!; 



Follow in the steps <>i' Time — ' 
And this desolate, sublime, 
Grand prince of ruin ! not a trace, 
But blooming spring will all cH'ace, 
Breathing o'er her plastic breath, 
And juouldiui!; loveliness from death ! 



Nee-nati (such the maiden's name,) 
Near the dark shade's border came ; 
Crossed she o'er the guardian stream--™ 
Hark ! was that the wild-cat's scream ? 
'Waking from blood-thirsty dream! 
Like a maiden in distress, 
Crying through the wildei*ness ! 



The Panther, (so the Illinois 

Had named their chieftain's oldest boy — 

His voice had once proved a decoy, 

And e'en a wily hunter led 

To seek him out with stealthy tread,) 

The Panther heard the signal cry 

Himself the Potawattomie 

Had taught ; when love, shyer than fear, 

Had framed deception for the ear 

Of all Mho heard, save him Avhose heart 

Had prompted such bewildering art; 

And oft before, on such a night, 

When winds w^ere still and stars were bright, 

Had listened with a longhig sense. 

Protracting time and hope's suspense, 

Until that magic voice had thrilled 

His soul, with love's quick transport filled — ■ 

TTie Panther heard the signal cry. 

And brushed the dew-drop from his eye ; 

It was no tear, if such it seem. 

And he had waked from sorrowing dream* 

He leaned upon his brawTiy arm. 

And listencrl, doubting the alarm, 



tllE WARKING. 



Then gazed upon the swarthy men, 
Who, stretched beneath his piercing ken. 
Were sleeping sweet as if the dawn 
Should sparkle o'er the grove and lawn, 
And shed its lustre on their path, 
From dangers free, and foeman's wrath, 
Nor bear upon its wings of light 
Fears e'en a timid maid should fright ! 
Again ho heard the mystic token 
In feebler accents faintly spoken ; 
And rising from his sleep- worn mat, 
As silently as flits the bat , 
In ancient cave or hall deserted, 
He from his sleeping comrades parted. 



Now stealing softly o'er the leaves, 
His bosom with emotion heaves 5 
No fear it is, that shakes his limbs — 
Nor night's damp chill — ^no vision swims. 
Of ghost or spirits in the air. 
As superstition paints theiu there ! 
His heart is firm — his limbs are strong — 
He dares cpn front the boldest wrong — 
'Though bound to torture's burning stake, 
No coward nerve in him should quake — 
Yet swayed by love's delusive power. 
He treinbles like the field-born flower. 
When underneath the dark cloud's belt 
The pulses of the storm are felt. 



Beside -a patriarch of the wood, 
A portly oak, the maiden stood, 
And waited for the loved one's tread, 
As silently as wait the dead ; 
Until within a breath's low sound — ■ 
Then gliding softly o'er the ground, 
She met the warrior, face to face, 
(2) Soon clasped within his warm embrace! 



10' 0-NA-WE-QUAH ; 



A moment only on his brecast, 
The maiden gave her forehead rest ; 
Withdrawing then her lovely form, 
One hand she clasped upon his arm, 

The other held his hand ; 
" Warrior !" she said, " a gathei'ing stonn 
Black with destruction's dread alarm, 

Is sweeping o'er the land!" 

" When council fires in darkness wane, 
Ere yet the hastening day is gone, 

They never shall be lit again 

Till many a wreaking knife is drawK!" 

" A trait'ress, I have fled the camp, 
To warn thee of apjiroaching danger ! 

My love for thee was guiding lamp. 

And led me thro' these wilds, a stranger. "^ 

" My boat is on the ri^^er's brink — 
The river flows toward the ocean — 

As silently as star-beams drink, 

Shall be our downward gliding motion !" 

" Then come with me, and let us fly ! 

Ere yet my lather wakes to find me 
A trait'ress fled — a warning spy — - 

To which my love alone inclined me." 

" Beyond the Mississippi's banks 

We'll build our hut secure and lonely; 

And every eve' we'll join our thanks, 
That thou art mine — and I, thine only !"■ 



The warrior listened to her strain, 
Which sped like lightning thro' his brain, 
And Cjuivered in his trembling heart. 
Like pointed, eagle-pinioned dart ! 
The blood receded from his lips, 



THE WAKNING. 11 



And agueish chilled his finger tips ; 
Then mounting back again to shame 
His cheek from whence the color came — 
Had light upon his visage shone, 
A blush had mingled with the brown, 
And rippling o'er his high cheek bone, 
Increased the darkness of his frown. 



" Maiden !" he said ; " thy words are sWeet, 
And soft as are the doveling's note ; 

My heart Avould follow on thy feet, 
And trust the guidance of thy boat. " 

" But list ! upon these limbs of mine, 
Disgrace shall never leave a stain — 

Nor 'round my heart shall love e'er twine 
A cord that shall my course restrain !" 

" A child of him — my noble sire ! 

Ne'er let the nations tell the tale, 
He fled before Wau-bok-sie's ire, 

With trembling limbs, and features pale." 

" No ! rather let them say, he fell 
Beneath the whirling tomahawk ! 

And that his spirit slumbers well — ■ 

Or with the shadowy Braves holds talk !" 

" No ! never be it said of me — 
The Panthek, O-na-we-quah's son ! 

He sought the shade of Love's green tree. 
And hid ere yet the strife begun." 

"Be thou my guide! My father's men 
I'll lead where sleeps the painted foe, 

And 'venge our wrongs ! — Fair maiden, then 
To other lands, with thee FIl go !" 



12 O-NA-WE-QUAII ; 



" Or if the spirit of tliis land 

Shall bk'ss the stronc; avenging blow,. 
I'll claim thee from Wau-bon-bie's hand, 

And drown in blood the faintest, no!" 



The maiden's heart was tilled with grief, 
And trembled like the Poplar's leaf 
Hope snnk within her tender breast, 
As day expires far down tlie west ; 
And left her bosom dark and drear, 
As night, foreboding naught but fear. 
" I knew, I knew," she faintly cried, 
" I ne'er should be thy chosen bride ! 
And yet I hoped! — but hope no more 
Shall warm luy heart's dull aching core ! 
Go ! arm thy men — but let me not 
Betray my kinsmen's lui-king spot ; — 
Thee, onhf thcc ! I cared to save. 
And th<Mi art lost ! Yet in thy grave 
When thou art gone — I'll place the meat, 
And pounded corn, and berries sweet ; 
And brave as thoxi ! my heart shall be, 
Forever true to love and thee !■" 



The young Cllief felt liis spirit yield 
A moment, then again was steeled 
With hatred for his nation's foe, 
And pride's returning crimson flow ! 
Nor struggled long his savage blood. 
Between the tempting, and the good ; 
Eor base indeed, at such an hour. 
To seek repose in love's sweet bower ; — 
For chiefVain's son 'twere base indeed, 
To fly the day of bravery's need — 
WhiU^ hi? strong arm had power ■ to strike. 
And chanipion deeds heroic-like ! — 
When li-om deserted sod might rise. 
A sister's g()rc to stain the skies. 



THE WARNINO. 13 



With streaks of blood that ne'er should fade, 

As oft he gazed from love-sought glade, 

To wreak in after diiys the shame 

Of " coward Brother" on his . name ! 

When Father's spirit flitting o'er 

The world of souls, from shore to shore^ 

Might whisper through the solitude 

Of Iowa's primeval wood, 

" A stain on 0-na-we-quah's race ! 

A treacherous son — a coward base !" 

lie dropped the maiden'^ hand from his, 
Nor stooped to take a parting kiss ; 
But bade her seek her father's tent, 
Ere yet the darkness all was spent, 
And wait with iope, the morn's event. 
They parted, she with heavy heart, 
And pained with disappointment's smart. 
He to his comrades quick returned, 
While rage within his bosom burned ; 
But ere he reached the slumbering crowd, 
.Above theni hung a massive cloud. 
That rapidly as passions gather. 
Or changes lUinoisan weather. 
Had clustered underneath the moon. 
With sighs and mutterings — and soon 
Groaned out with loud parturient pain— 

The living light leaped from its womb 
And flashed athwart the flooded plain, 
Piercing with momentary gleam 

The darkness of incumbent gloom — 
Lived but the life-time of a dream, 
And vanished! — Still the laboring cloud 
Bore on, with anguish long and loud ; 
Speaking to the awe-struck ear 
In tones that filled the heart with fear; 
For there is naught in heaven or earth 

Speaks to the heart with such a thrill, 
As the thunder's groan at the lightning's birth, 

Bidding the proudest breast breathe still, j 



14 O-NA-WE-QUAII ; 



" Awake my Braves !" the Panther cries, 

"The spirits of the dead complain! 
Awake my Braves ! — to glory rise — 
Or wander with the gh()stly slain ? 
Awake, awake !" (An hundred men 
Rose up like spirits from the glen, 
And stood with superstitious awe, 
Around their Chief, whose word was law.) 
" Once moi-e, my Braves ! within whose veins 
The blood of freedom still remains, 
Once more on you the spirits call. 
For freedom's cause to strike or fall ! 
Tliis night or never tells the tale. 
And woe betide the arms that fail ! 
This night or never !^ — let it be 
The dread of Potawat'Amie ! 
And let their children's children tell 
The terrors which this night befel !" 



" The auguring clouds have omened well," 
(The old man said, the Panthbr's sire, 
As slowly raised his ancient ire, 
And quickened o'er his wrinkled brow 
A tinge of youth's bright magic flow ; 
And kindled in his veins the fire 
Of day's decline to morning's glow) 

" The auguring clouds have omened well, 
And well my son, thy lips have spoken! 

I feel my aged pulses swell. 

As time had not their spirits broken !" 

" Where lies the foe 1 I ask no more — 
The shadows o'er my brain this night, 

Winged from Futurity's dark shore, 
Bore presage of the coming fight. 

" What saw the Panther in his dream, 
That thus hath roused his youthful blood ? 



THE WARNING. 15 



Or was it but the lightning's gleam 
That 'waked him in a hero's mood ?" 

" No dream my sire, hath touched my eyes 

No prophet I, foretelling Seer — 
Nor have the spirits of the skies 

So thundered in the Panther's ear ! 

" A living dream hath wai-med my blood, 
A vision brighter tar than Fancy's — 

And o'er my heart hath poured its flood 
Of living, loving, lust'rous glances ! 

" The council fires at set of sun. 
Beyond the river's bank have died, 

And painted Braves, beneath the dun 
Of midnight, wait upon its side. 

" They sleep secure in tale of Seer-^ 
Their prophet hath his counsel told ; 

Nor dream tliey aught of dangers near, 
Of warning spy, or maiden bold! 

" But why delay 1 — the moments fly. 

And darkness soon by morn's bright fingers 

Will leave unblauketed the sky, 

And yield to fate the form that lingers. 

" Away ! and ere the morning draws 
The curtains from the slumbering earth. 

We'll stain with blood the hungry jaws 
Of death ; . or 'venge our fated birth !" 

As thus he spolce the blanket fell, 
And bared his bosom's manly swell ; 
Then stretching forth Jils brawny arm, 
As if he would repel the storm, 
He said — " let all my Braves, who dare 
With me their fate and lives to share — 
Let all who love their being less 



IG o-na-we-quah; 



Than honor's unstained holiness, 
This moment for the strife prepare! 
And by the blood of brothers swear! 
By our forefather's bones — a host — 
By mui'dered sister's weeping ghost — 
By all our ancient honor'd name,^ 
Once winged upon the winds of fame, 
' This night the Potawattomie, 
By our strong arm shall vanquished be !' 
This be our oath — our battle cry, 
* Vte come to conquer or to die P '''' 



First in the ranks the old man stood, 
To lead those Spai-tans of the wood ; 
Beliind him followed close, his men, 
Their oath still echoing through the glen ; 
The Panther, second in command, 
Took close behind his watchfid stand — • 
The wiliest of the war-like band. 
Then, silent as the shades of death — 
A line of shadows — o'er the heath 
They took their com-se, with rapid stride, 
Yet cautious, toward the ilo^nng tide, 
Beyond which still impatient lay 
The slumbering Potawattomie. 



The storm-fiends muttered in the air— 
The prowling wolf had sought his lair ; 
The moon appalled had fled the zone ' 
Of upward skies, nor longer shone 
On lowland stream, or upland hill — 
On hooting Owl, or Whip-poor-will ; 
On Bison brown, or fawn-loved Doe ; 
On waking Brave; or slumbering foe ; 
On flowering lawn, forest w- glade, 
Nor yet upon a flying n:iaid ; 
For Nee-naii's boat, as light as ever. 
An hour auo hud crossed the river. 



O NA-WE-QUAH ; 



A I.EGEN3 OF IZiLZNOZS. 



THE CONFLICT. 

The grass was wet on hill and dale — • 
And o'er them hung a midnight veil ; 
While darkness like a turban's fold, 
Around the brows of Earth was rolled. 
The winds bewildered in their flight, 
Moaned through the dismal halls of night, 
And flapped their wings, like demons hurled 
From realms of light, to dannied world ! 



Still 0-na-we-quah's silent band, 

Undaunted, held their onward course ; 
Their Chieftain's motion was eommand — 
No need had they of mandate hoarse ! 
Until the river's bank was gained. 
And every eye was watchful strained,- 
Lest secret foe should guard the ford, 
And warn the sullen sleeping horde. 



No living breath around was heard — 
No rustling leaf was faintly stirred : — 
(3) They plied in vain the voicelesss ground, 



O-XA-WE-QUAH ; 



With ears attuned to foot-fall sound ; 
The rippling river's murmuring tone, 
Fell on the attenuate sense alone; 
While darkness resting «:)n the stream, 
Shut out the sparkling water's gleam ; 
The deep above, the deep below, 
Seemed mingled in contiguous flow! 



In one accord the Braves prepared, 

With girded loin, and strong arms bared, 

To stem the flood, what e'er betide, 

And reach with life the opposing side. 

But ere a single swimmer's stroke, 

The water's moving crest had broke— 

With offerings mete, the priestly Brave 

Aappeasance spread upon the wave, 

And called upon the !NIon-e-doo 

Of flood and stream to guide them through ! 

Then first, as if his sacred arm, 

By spirits blest, held pious charm, 

With silent stroke, yet firm and long, 

He led the way, with heart still strong. 

Though Time had withered many a tree. 

And Age had struck from out the land, 
Full many a Brave as young as he — 

And long and lean had gro-mi his hand— 

And gone the favorites of his band — 
And gone the vigor of his youth — 

And gone the glory of his tribe — 
And gone (himself almost in sooth — 

Nor strength, nor hope can age imbibe,) 
And gone the wife that pounded corn — 

And gone the child that first was their's— 
Old 0-NA-WB-QUAH smiled them scorn. 

Nor bowed him yet to age or cares ! 



The MoN-K-DOO h.'id heard his prayer! 
Enthroned above the humid air — 



THE CONFLICT. 



Yet in their spirit attributes 
Pervading all the vast remotes ! 
The skies, the stars, the flaming Sun! 
Home of the good and mighty one ! 
Forever imminent — and seen 
On rocky peak, and valley green; 
Among the trees — amid the vines — 
In clefts, in crevices, and mines 
Deep under ground — in caverns damp, 
Unlit by impious sti-anger's lamp; 
Where crystal tears, congealed as shed, 
Lie sparkling o'er the stony bed; 
Or hang as from a snowy eave. 
The icy spars, that upward cleave. 
And grow apace, &s dow^l them roll 
Drops salt as from a sorrowing soul — 
O'er Lakes, and springs, and flowing streams, 
Fountains, and falls ! Wherever gleams 
The light of day — or night still holds 
Her sovereign sway o'er plain and wold, 
There are they seen, or felt, or heard ! — 

In every whisper of the breeze — 
Tlie moan of leaf, or wind's low sigh — 

Tlie tempest's howl, when from the seas 
A voice goes upward to the sky 

And all the elements are stirred, — 
Still are they heard! 
Even in the tiny insects hum — 
Or wild Bee's murmur 'mid the thnim 
Of flowers, wherein are spirit forms. 

From human vision close concealed. 
The ear detects some spirit word 

In sweet harmonious sounds revealed! 



Tlie MoN-K-Doo had heard the prayer ! 

And on the v;ished for bank they stood, 
With reeking limbs and dripping hair, 

Safe o'er the dark and fearful flood! 
Safe — all save one who 'U rise uo more, 



20 o-na-we-qitah; 



Till wafled on that silent shore 
Where, lifted from the dreary banks 
By spirit hands he'll join the ranks 
Of kindred who have gone before ; 
Unscalped his brow — unspilled his gore— 
And yet with victor's garlands round 
His brow, by spirit maidens bound! 
They missed him not, nor lingered there, 
To number o'er their force with care ; 
But eager still as hungering hound, 
On scented track each one did bomid; 
Nor slackened in their vengeful speed, 
Save where suspicion crowned a weed, 
Gro>vn ranker from the nutrient mould, 
With crest and plume of warrior bold — 
Or passing through steep sided glen 
With guarded steps 'gamst ambushed men 
They bent their heads, and crouching low 
Moved onward through the darkness slow, 
Till from the fearfi.l gorge emerged. 
By murderous burning passions urged, 
Tliey leaped, as longing for the strife, 
That soon should cost them many a life! 



Wau-bon-sie'b men were sleeping still, 
Foreboding naught of coming ill ; 
Nor had a restive dream betrayed 
The absence of the love-lorn maid ; 
Who, when returned, with fears oppressed 
Dared not disturb her father's rest. 
Dared not 1 She dared do even more ! 
Unskilled m love's deep mystic lore 
Is he who trusts in woman's fear ! 
What love inspires to do, she'll dare! 
So in the breast of Nee-nah, love 
With filial duty fiercely strove — 
TKis tempting sorely to reveal 
That wliich the other would conceal. 
Until too late ! not her's the choice ! 



THE CONFLICT. 21 



For near at hand the Illinois 

Catlike, and couchant, stealing on — 

Each Math his knife and tom'hawk drawn — 

With breath suppressed, and form half bent — 
Like tigers eyeing slumbering fawn 

With bloody eagerness intent — 
Each nerve inwrought with fierce desire — 
Each eye quick flashing passions fire — 
Each muscle strained for fatal leap — 

While for a moment in delight 
They gazed upon their victims sleep, 

And feasted on the entrancing sight 
Of Nature's deep imconsciousness, 
Betraying where 'twas meant to bless, 
Till savage blood might strive in vain 
Its burning pulses to restrain — 
They leaped, as if from jmigled lair, 
With scream that startled Earth and air, 
And fiercely on their foemen fell 
With blow, and stab, and fearful yell — 
And voices multiplied by fear 
Within the treacherous waking ear 
Of those whom fortune did awake 
To vengeance fly, or vengeance take! 
But few indeed who first awoke, 
Sunk not again, beneath the stroke 
Of him who stood beside their bed, 
And cleft with blows each rising head, 
Whose forms within their blanket's fold 
Convulsed, and o'er their comrades rolled, 
Or in deliriums fiercest mood, 
Wreaked on their own, their own lost blood ! _ 
While rung around fi'om earth to sky 
" We come to conquer or to die /" 



And few were they who gained their feet, 
But felt the impulse of retreat ; 
O'erawed with sudden shock of fear, 
And yells of triumph on the ear, 



22 O-NA-WE-QUAII ; 



Mingled with groans of agony ! — 
In vain Wau-bon-sib's rallying cry ! 
They heard not, heeded ndt his voice- 
But fled before the Illinois, 
Striking whom first their arms did meet 
Obstructing vengeance or retreat — 
Though in the darkness none could tell 
If friend or foe before him fell ; 
And many a form in death-shock reeled 
When every foe had left the field, 
Ere ceased the carnage or the flight, 
Or known the respite of the fight. 



Confusion, dire, as reigned in hell. 
When first the prince of darkness fell— 
Or Babel's tower had grown so high — 
Aspirmg heavenward through the sky, 
Bewildered tongues confounded all, 
And taught ambition how to fall — > 
Spread panic o'er the bloody plain, 
And left unnumbered all the slain! 



0-NA-WE QUAH ; 



A LEGEND OF ILLINOIS. 



THE RETREAT. 

Hushed is the thunder's mighty tongue 

In upper aii' — and hushed the cry 
Of Battle-fiends, that loud had rung 

Beneath the dark appalling sky ; 
And faint the finger-marks of Morn, 

As rising from her purple bed 
She tosses back with radient scorn, 

The locks that cluster 'round her head, 
And steps on high! The glorious Maid! 

Who shivers with her sparkling glance, 
The clouds o'er forest, hill, and glade. 

As over all her steps advance — 
While 'roimd her myriad Beauties dance, 

And drink the love-light from her eyes, 

And dip their wings in the deep dyes 
Of her bright cheeks and roseate lips — 

Tlien fly away o'er all the skies, 
To stain them with their finger-tips, 

Glittering in gaudy colors bright — 
And scatter o'er the smiling field 

Profusion of their golden light, 
With pearls, and amethysts — and steal 

Sweet kisses troni the blushing flowersj 



24 O-NA-WE-QUAII ; 



Caught with the dew-god in their bowers — 
And o'er the grove's green freshness spread 

A filmy purple canopy, 
Soft as the melting hue 

Of Mary's dreamy eye — 

And o'er the hill tops tread, 

Swathing them in golden sheets — 
Walking in gladness dressed. 
As over burnished pavements of the streets 
In Fabled City of the future blest ! 
Alas ! that Nature's peerless child, 

The brightest birth the fruitfiil Sun 
E're gave to earth, that grateful smiled, 

As round the parent orb she run — 
Alas ! that Morn, the sister queen 

Of rainbow tints, and and evening dyes, 
Should gaze on sueh barbarian scene. 

As oft' must greet her sparkling eyes ! 
And yet her looks are over all 

As bright, as when on Eden's grove 
She shed glad rays — ere Adam's fall. 

Or Cain forgot his brother's love ! 



With victory flushed, the Illinois 

Pressed homeward flist their flying foot; 
For well they knew no plumeless boys 

Were they, to follow their retreat — 
But mighty warriors, known of old, 

Whose scalps outnumbered far their years- 
And youths, Ambition driven, bold 

To trample over death, and fears ! 
All this, and more, full Avell they knew, 
As fast, and faster still they flew ! 
At every step, the busy brain 
By multiples increased the train 
Of those to follow on their track. 
And hunt them to their confines back. 
The babbling brouk they leaped, nor heard 



THE RETRBAT. 25 



The music of a murmured word ; 
Nor on their sense excited fell 
The tinklings of a pebble bell, 
Struck by the water's silvery tongue ; 
Nor heard they from the neighboring hill, 
The voice of echoes, speaking still — 
Nor zephyrs laughing, glad and young ! 



They sped like shadows through the shade 
Of woody wilds, nor respite made ; 
Stopped not to feel the awe it gives. 
To be where naught but Nature lives ! 
To feel the humbling influence 
Of Nature's vast omnipotence ! 
To feel the weakness of man's will, 
And all his boasting passions still — 
Submissive, chastened, in control 
Of feelings that sublime the soul ! 
But onward, onward still they fled, 
Till victory's face, with slaughter red 
Paled o'er, as sinking with the dead ; 
And fears that follow fast the flying, 
Unkno^vn while yet amid the dying 
In shock of conflict, o'er them set 
The shadows of forlorn regret 



And well they might ; for ere the Sun 

Had dried their fallen victims' blood, 
Thr<jugh all the tribes the watchword run. 

From river's bank, to western wood ; 
And gathering flxst the warrior's fleet. 

And bold, and strong, and stung with shame 
Upon that field of combat meet. 

Nor kindle fresh the council flame ; 
But gather round the mangled forms 

Of friends and kinsmen, fallen there, 
And stain with binding-blood their anus. 

And })y their spirit fathers swear 



26' O-NA-WE-QUAH ; 



" Revenge ! revenge ! and deadliest hate f 

The last of Ona-we-quah's race — 
The last red drop shall expiate 

The shame naught else can now efHice !" 
A few short words Wau-bon-sie said 
While pointing to th' unnumbered dead, 
Food for the ever hungei-ing air 
And wasting winds that hovered there — 
A few short words- — what then the need 1 
Those wounds that never more should bleed 
More eloquent than living tongue, 
Moved every heart, in concert strung! 
And never more those wilds around 
Shall quake with such tumultuous sound — 
And never more that wood shall hear 
Reverberant in its listening ear 
Such boundless passion's frantic yell 
As on its echoing arches fell ! 
The axeman's stroke resounding now, 
Bears presage of the coming plow, 
Which ope's the speechless lips of earth, 
And gives a tongue to myriad birth 
Of Cereal offspring, glad and new 
From siring Sun, and nursing dew. 



Beyond the power of thought's control 
Hot i)assions tortured every soul. 
Till like resistless ocean's tide, 
When storm-fiends on the tempest ride — 
Or Mississippi's turbid breast. 
With melting snows in torrents pressed, — 
That host of savage warriors burst 
O'er all restraint — with burning thirst 
For blood — and vengeance on the race 
That thus had stained them with disgrace ? 
Then bounding madly o'er the plain, 
Silence, and Death, were friends again! 
Of all that host, there's none remain 
To sotithe the &ick or guard the slain ! 



THE RETREAT. IW 



No voice to scare the wolf away, 
Or fright the vulture from his prey ! 
Ah, one ! — when all the rest have fled, 
Like sainted spirit o'er the deiid, 
With angel form and silent feet 
A maiden steals from soft retreat, 
And drops from balmy lids the dew 
Of love, from fountains pure and true. 
All tremulous, with hasty tread, 
She wanders now among the dead. 
And glances swift from form to form. 
Whose untlrrilled hearts no longer warm 
Beneath her soft transporting eye, 
Whose lustres with the star-beams vie! 
Yet stops she not to bend her brow, 
On many a fallen warrior now ; 
And strange — not e'en her brothers share 
Those tears of love, which she would spai'e 
For one, who vainly sought for, still 
Rends her soft bosom with a thrill, 
Lest that indeed he should be found, 
A weight of anguish on the ground. 



She stops — an Illinoisan youth 
Bites hard the grass ! — it is not he ! 
Her breath returns with hopeful truth. 
Her pulses beat more wild and free ; — 
Then folding on her heaving breast 
Her arms, with look serenely blest, 
" Great Spirit ! thou hast heard me still * 
He lives ! — O may it be thy will 
Yet o'er his form to spread thy wing 
Averting fate, and death's vile string." 
Such was the maiden, Neenah's prayer, 
Borne heavenward on the ambient air. 



Meredian shadows on the grass, 
Reclined as pictured in a glass, 



28 O-NA-WE-QUAH ; 



And on the idial face of earth 

Stretched out their fingers toward the north, 

Proclaiming time, as shadows will, 

Fleeting, forever fleeting still ! 

Yet gently, kindly warning man 

How short the measure of his span, 

Ere like a shadow's when withdrawn 

The light of life, his being's gone. 

How soft those shadows on the breast 

Of mother earth recline, and rest ; 

As if to soothe her waking hour, 

Till darkness shall the day devour, 

And cradled in the atmosphere. 

In seeming sleep, the world appear ! 



At length, regained ancestral field. 

The Illinois no longer yield 

To flying fear ; but turn again 

To view their own, their native plain; 

And see in retrospect the shade 

Of greatness, far beyond their aid 

This side of heaven to recall — 

Doomed by decree of fate to fall ! 

How on the mind of warriors old, 

Stride forth the spectres of the bold 

And stalwart heroes of his time. 

Ere passed the glory of his prime; 

Who, oft in battle time of life 

Had mingled in the deadliest strife, 

And won courageous names, and plumes, 

And trophies, now within their tombs ! 

(Curs'd be the hand that such exhumes !) 

How on the burning brain of youth, 

In pictures, glowing more than truth, 

Traditioned battles move along, 

And triumphs echo in the song — 

As 'round and 'round, with blow and yell, 

The dancing warriors proudly tell 

How 'neath their strokes the victims fell — 



TIlS RETREAT. 29 



And hold the fresh pealed scalps in air 

Suspended by a tuft of hair, 

Proof valorous — foi- more than tongue 

Could testify, to move the young ! 

Oh ! 't were a sorrowing sight to see 

The remnant of that noble race, 

Bowed by the weight of destiny — 

Proud of their birth and ancestry — 

Proud of their name, which once had been. 

The dread of every enemy — 

Alas, to be not so agahi!; 

On, on — beneath the stern decree — 

No hope, no stay, no remedy ! • 



Make way ! make way ! 
Nations and men ! — all, all decay, 
And ii^ingle with forgotten clay ! 
Unpeopling earth, to people o'er — 
Press onward ! those who go before ! 
Nations and men ! the Camel's bell 

Is heard to tinkle 'neath the walls 
Of Tlieban temple, where the swell 

Of worship once rung through the halls! — 
Where still o'er ruined Altars gaze 

Their gods in, stone — with silent look, 
Expectant still of ancient praise 

Um-ead from Sarcedotal Book ! 
The Albanian slave beneath the shade 

Of Athen's ruin, drags his chain ; 
Or ruthless draws barbarian blade, 

But not his freedom to regain ! 
Minerva's temple goddessless, 

No longer claims his love or fear — 
The tread of Empires o'er him press, 

And Greece hath shrunk into a tear! 



Here, even here where all seems new, 
As if but yesterday it grew. 



30 0-NA-\rE-i;'IJAir ; 



Bright, blushing, heaiitiful and sweet, 
As Time had never touched with feet 
Dusty and worn the laughing earth, 
Since first it caijis at Nature's birth — 
Cities, by forest trees o'er-grown — 
Arts, arms, and archetect unknown — 
Wrapped' in obscurity's dark folds, 
Unchronicled in History's scrolls — 
Traditionless ! beyond the power 
Of searching Science to restore ! 
Sleep on the sleep of ages past, 
,And hold their slumbering mysteries fast. 
Yet in eacii change— what e'er it be 
The wisdom cf God's plan' we see! 
Materials these, that serve agaiu 
In links of the unbroken chain. 
Death feeds en life — and life from death 
Draws back again ir.spiring breath ; 
Corruption, and decay but give 
Sweet nutriment to things that live ! 
The nutrient giass feeds' on ths wind, 
And dews with sunber.ms soft entwined— 
The flocks snd herds upon it feed, 
And fatten, for still nobler need ! 
Man feeds upon the flesh they yield, 
Drawn from the ever-bounteous field ; 
Proud man, too, sinks below the dust — 
Yet breaks again the o'erclosing crust, 
Lives in the willow-boughs that wave, 
And grass that mantles o'er his grave ! 



Aroused once more the paling fire 
Of energy and ancielit ire. 
Once more the Braves assembled stood 
Before the raon^.roh of the wood, 
And listened to the comisel grave. 
Of him, the good, the wise, the brave— 
The Patriot, Father, and the Sage, 
Unbowed by destiny or age ! 



31 



"Children," he. said, " luy sight grows dim — 

Strange visions o'er my eye-balls swim — 

And shrmik with years each trembling limb ! 

A few more moons and I must go 

To bend in other tields the bow : — 

Already in my vapory breath ' 

I feel ths clammy winds of death ; 

And stretched upon my withered hand 

Are sliadows from the spirit-lafid ! 

I see from .each ,ddsclosihg. bone, 

Death soon will claim me ias hi.s own ! 

Then what have I to lose or gain? 

No dreams of life steal through my brain, 

As flit before mine a^-ed eyes 

The pietures of yon heavenly skies ! 

Nor do I ask one breathing hour 

To shield me from the monster's pow<?r; 

But bid him come ! — my bow is strung ! 

My quiver on my back is slung ! 

And these old limbs v/ouid gladJy be 

Unburdened of a centuiy ! 

Here' let me rest, here let me die : — 

But you, mj children, yon uuist fly ! 

Already on the scented path 

The painted foe comes in his wrath — 

His hosts are sv/eeping o'er the plain, 

Uimumbered as the di-ops of rain ; — 

Fly ! fly ! to aanl>:;t were in vain !" 



" Not while one drop of blood renuiins — 
(The Panther said) unless with thee \ 
This same bright sod shall blush with stains 
And drink the life thou gav'st to me ! 
Let all the j-est seek shelt'ring flight ! 
Alone, with thee — methinks to die, 
Would leave my bounding spirit light 
To roam the plains .of yonder sky ! 
Why linger here? — of ■ all thy -sons — 
Of all thy father's princely lino, 



33 o-na-tve-quah; 

The last through ^vllose proud heart there runs 

Of blood, a kindred drop to thine ? 

My mother's hand is beck'ning there ! 

My brother's feet pursue the chase — 

And I! I long to wing the air, 

And end with me thy fated race! 

And yet — " ( A. shadow o'er his face 

Betoken'd mcm'ry's magic spell, 

As 'rose from out his heart a swell, 

That flushed his cheek, and filled his eye 

With light that might his words belie. ) 

The old man saw and kindly said — 

,"Thy father's heart thine own hath read! 

Too well I hel, too well I know 

The secret of that , crimson flow ! 

My heart is old, my brain is sere- — 

Nor words of love have reached mine ear 

For many a long forgotten year ; 

And yet the language of thine eye 

Is eloquent as yonder sky 

Of love and beauty ! Thou wouldst live, 

And shun the sacrifice 1 give! 

Then be it as thou wilt — and still 

Flow on the blood that I would spill ; 

Flow on — nor I, nor thou, the last 

To fall before the avenging blast !" 



Tims spoke the generous Chief, and old, 
And closer drew his blanket's fold ; 
His eyes still resting on his child, 
With all a parent's love beguiled ; 
His spirit balancing between 
The living and the bright unseen. 
As one who longed to fly away, 
Yet could not break the bonds of clay. 
The Panther's eye attraction found 
That held it firmly on the ground — 
Though striving vainly in his breast, 
^ Tn hidf that ^\iuch liis mion confesses"' 



TJIK RKTKKAT. 



Until the chief hade them prepare 
To fly the dangers threatened there ; 
And said ; " I too will share the fate, 
Whatever shall our steps await !" 



Collected soon, the last remains 
That held them to their native plains, 
They bid farewell to grove and mound, 
And severed every tie that bound — 
Save such as mem'ry throws about 
The heart of exile — wearing out 
As the heart wears — to only cease 
When death from bondage shall release — 
And hastened, Brave, maid, wife and boy, 
All, all, last of the Illinois ! 
Nor lingered, even now to gaze 
On objects loved of other days, 
Or leave one token of regret 
For scenes on which their hopes had set ! 
They sought once more the river's side 
To claim protection from its tide ; 
Its shelving banks, and fortresses 
liock-built, withstanding dull decrees 
Of time — and elemental strife — 
Unscarred save by the water's knife — 
Or where some envious warrior bold 
With sculpture had his deeds enrolled, 
Aspiring to anticipate 
Kenown, that echoes of the great 
Through long drawn aisles of centuries, 
And wafts away on every breeze — 
Thus gaining immortality 
Ere yet from nKjrtal Ijondage free! 



So too, the Pilgrim, dreading more 
Forgetfulness than death's dark fehore, 
Resting beside some ooohng s.prir-g, 
(5) O'er which the rocks their shadows fling, 



S4 O-NA-^ E-QCAH ; 



Refreshing as the crystal flood 

Tliat wets his lips and cools his blood — 

Deep in the stone will carve his name 

In letters emnlous of fame ! 

So genius, too, in later time 

Toils on and writes in sands of rhyme, 

With trembling hand an honest name, 

And dies, perchance forgot the same ! 



Far happier he who with his own 
Entwines some hero's fameward blown — 
Some Washington, by all revered — 
By freedom loved, by tyrants feared ! 
Some Adams, Statesman, Prophet, Sage— 
Po retelling truths to coming age ; 
Some Henry, skilled in magic art, 
With words to chill or warm the heart! 
Some Warren, deathless as the day 
On which he cast his life away ! . 
Some Franklin, plucking from the wings 
Of Lightnig plumage while he sings — 
These, with a host of heroes more. 
Who peopled once Columbia's shore — 
Might save by powers their own divine, 
The bard's who should their names enshrine ! 



Through many a gorge where quarrying stream 
Had waked the lime-stone from its dream 

Of myriad ages, on they passed — 
O'er rugged hill, and deep ravine 
That gaped like hung'ring grave between — 

Yet deem'd not now their bulwarks fast ; 
Till gained at length a towering stone 

Based in the waters broad and strong, 

Washed by the flowing waves along, 
And lifting high its lofty cone — 
They stopped and gazed upon the tower 
Of strength, and majesty, and power. 



THE RETREAT. ^i 



That like a monument upreared 
In memory of ages dead, 
Grander than Egypt's Pyramid ! 

Without an epitaph — appeared 
Defiant and approachless — save 
By entrance through a dismal cave 
That opened underneath the wave ; 

Thence fi'om the cavern to the sky, 
An upward crevice through the rock, 
Rent by some subterranean shock, 
Worn by the ever tinkling-feet 
Of water drops, that run and eat 
E'en from the marble's flinty side ; 

Led to the summit bold and high — 
That frowns forever on the tide 
Forever flowing round its base. 
And mocking its stern wrinkled face ! 



Again the old man raised his arm, 

And spread around the pious charm. 

With flattering holiness of mien 

As e'er by heathen god was seen ; 

And eke, a holiness of heart, 

Forgotten in the Priestly art 

Of pious pomp, and sounding prayer. 

And incense odoring the air 

Of high-arched temples, splendor-built, 

By hands not all unstained in guilt ! 



The prayer was said, the offering done — 
Then slowly ent'ring one by one, 
Man, wife, and child — each danger spurned- 
Deep in the rock themselves inurned ; 
The Panther last, who with his men. 
Had left no trace Avhere they had been; 
Each bended weed or grass replaced — 
Each foot-print in tbe sand effaced — 



36 O-NA-WE-QUAIi; 



Each fresh txirned leaf returned again, 
As long in searing sun-beams lain — 
E'en to the very steps, the last 
That led them to the rocky fast! 
Then elamb'ring up with slip'ry hold, 
(Task for the desperate or bold) 
With cheering hope and laboring strength 
They gained the lofty top at length. 
Secure they thought from force or wiles, 
They lent their lips to cheering smiles ; 
Each heart beat free — each eye looked glad, 
Each face with rainbow-hope was clad; 
And soon from out their scanty horde, 
Too scant, alas! they spread the board. 
And fed with relish long and keen. 
Like untamed horses on the green ! 



O NA-WE QUAH ; 



A I.SaEND OF ZLLZNOZS. 



THE SIEGE. 



Already had the day grown old — 

Far down the western slope of heaven 
The chariot wheels of light had rolled, 

By glowing hands unwearied driven ! 
Yet sultry seemed the sluggish breeze 

That stayed to sleep among the boughs, 
All motionless, of cedar trees 

That graced that huge rock's rugg'd brows; 
Already had the neigboring hills 

Flung down their shadows on the deep, 

Dark, boding, fearful, like the sleep 
Of giants, whose huge slumber fills 

The mind with awe to think upon — 
Like death, by greatness multiplied ! 

And still the unconscious waters on. 
Flowed mnrmuring to the ocean's tide. 



Alone, old Ona-we-quah stood, 
High beetling o'er the moving flood. 
And watched, in glorious strife, the west 

Contending with the deep-grown shades, 
And holding to a life, at best 

But lasting till the twililight fades — 



38 o-xa-we-quah; 



And thought — (ho may have thoiigiit of more) 
lie, too, was ling'i-ing on tlie shore 
Between life's glimmering sun-set hour, 
And Deaths' — when darkness should devour 
Each trace of all the glorious rays, 
Which had illumed his well spent days. 
Perchance he thought, too, of the morn. 
When strength, and beauty he had worn — 
Of noondays' brightness, and the light 
His valor shed o'er many a fight ; — 
Of war — of council — and of dance — 
Of mother's look — of childrens' glance — 
Of loved one's loveliness perchance ! — 
No matter ! — on his eye full soon 
Loomed up the haze-enshrowded moon 

Above the hills, and forests brown : — 
And one by one on heaven's great shield 

Emblaz'ed, the stars in clusters shone — 
And gemmed the azure of that field 

That seemed a subterraqueous zone, 
A thousand thousand fathoms down. 



The old chief tunied his watery eye 
To gaze upon the mimiced sky ; 
When, silently athwart his view 
Came glidmg on a bark canoe, 
And bending low, beneath the shade 
Of that huge rock, an Indian maid; 
Whose shadow kissed the trembling wave 
That seemed her graceful form to lave; 
But e're his eye could mark the place 
It vanished, leaving not a trace. 
He called his men — -with eager look 
They scanned each crevice, and each nook ; 
But naught could learn from sound or sight 
From whence it came — whereto its flight. 
They saw the shadows of the stone — 
The trees, the crags — they saw their own — 



TIIK SIEUK. 3i> 



Tlie bonded skies, the stars, the moon, 
But mortal maid, or spirit none ! 



Tliey watehed nntil the moon waxed dim 
And sunk below the water's brim ; 
Then placed around the sentinel. 
To watch and warn, what e'er befell ; 

But nothing more was seen or heard, 
Save now and then the wild dog's howl, 
Or koo-koo-ko-ooh ! of the owl — 
The moaning of the cedar bonghs 
Waked by the night winds from their drowse, 

Till morning, cheered by beast and bird, 
Arose from out the royal east 
Adorned as for a marriage feast, 
And banished with her wand of light 
The gloomy spectres of the iTight. 



Morn came — and night and morn again 
Three times exchanged their queenly reign. 
Meanwhile the foe, with wily care 
Had traced the victims to their lair ; 
And ere the third night's ixioon, bl<jod-red 
Had blanched before the gates of heaven, 
To silvery paleness, or had fled 
The twilight-gentleness of even' — 
(Jn either shore, rock, hill, ravine, 
The savage host by thousands seen. 
Uncovered, and sent forth a yell — 

A shout of such demoniac rage. 
That on the trembling listeners fell 

Like palsy down the limbs of age ! 
And startled on their rocky hold 

Tlie fugitives with new-born fears 
As from the hills loud echoes rolled 

The mad cry back upon their ears ! 
The wild beasts Hed — with scream unheard, 
Far fi(;w the gvay-wingrfl god-like bird ; 



40 o-na-wk-qiah; 



lU-omt'iicd ! leaving bare his brood, 
Unfledged, unfed with garnered food ! 
E'en Ona-\ve-quah's stolid breast 
The terrors of the hour confessed. 
While shuddered, hugging close the ground 
The remnant of his tribe around. 



Hour after hour the frenzied foe, 
With hurtling stone, and long drawn-bow, 
In vain assayed the rock to storm — 
For length of bow and strength of arm 
Availed them naught against that tower — 
In vain their numbers, force, and power ! 
Their shafts fell broken from its side : 
Their missiles sinik deep in the tide : 
And when the brave one's thought to scale 
Its battlements, a deadly hail 
Drove back the vanquished to its base, 
In blood their footsteps to retrace. 



Wac-bon-sie, baffled of his prey, 
ITcld parley then till coming day ; 
And counsel took, and plans revealed 
Of stratagems, and wiles concealed; 
And ofleretl to his Braves reward 
For daring feats, and dangers hard. 



Morn came again. High from the rock, 
The Illinois hurled back the shock 
Of voices ! By success inspired — 
Their hearts again by valor fired — 
They bid defiance, one and all, 
To every eifort to enthrall ; 
And mingled threats with epithets. 
To sting their foes with vain regrets : 
Bidding their chief, with all his men 
Approach the confines ol" their den — 



THE SIKOK. 



41 



Called them all women, cowards, boys, 
Children, who still should play with toys- 
Set snares for birds, and fish for min's — 
Deal only in soft rabbit skins — 
And then with fiendish laugh, they threAV 
Small pebbles at the infuriate crew. 



The seventh day came. As o'er the clouds 
The sun beamed out through hazy shrouds, 
His face looked redder than before — 
Anticipating human gore 
To mingle with the vapory breath 
Respired from off the foggy heath. 
His brow burned fiercely — and his gaze 
Sent forth its sultriest, withering rays, 
Till on the top of that high wall, 
Beleagured, and surrounded all, 
First saw, first felt, with dreadful sense 
Of human pride's frail impotence, 
Those castled kings, their tower of strength 
Changed to a prison's narrow length — 
While through each vein a burning thirst 
Coursed to their hearts, with pain accurst ; 
And hunger, bare of tooth and eye 
Stared in their faces angrily ! 
Then babes cried out, and tugged in vain 
Their mother's withered breasts to drain ; 
And children, in their innocence, 
Unconscious of the dread suspense, 
Impatient, tortured with desire, 
Grew frantic with consuming fire. 
While stately warriors stern as eld, 
A secret council grimly held, 
And stared each other in the eye 
As if to see who first should die ! 
For one must go — let him be brave ! 
To steal from out the free-born wave 
(6) The cooling ziiedicino to s-ave I 



42 O-NA-WE-QUAH ; 



One went, but never more returned 
To slake the thirst of those who burned — 
Another, and the third, the same 
Dread pathway went, but never came ! 



Still watched the foe. As bigots feel 
When martyrs shriek beneath their steel, 

So felt the POTAWATTOMIE — 

And laughed with savage enmity 

As reached their ears, from deep distress, 

Groans nature's powers could not suppress. 

But, eagar to anticipate, 

And snatch revenge from hands of fate, 

A few more hardy in their hate, 

Determined now to scale the wall, 

And hold like wolves a carnival 

O'er starving men, and dying wives, 

And babes unconscious of their lives. 



Full fifty men have gained the cave- 
Still others emulate the brave,| 
Till closed at length the narrow way 
That leads from darkness up to day 
No more can enter, but await 
With envy now their comrades fate, 
Who in their eagerness forget 
There's fearful danger o'er them yet. 
Soon from the cavern's lowly bed 
High up a living chain hath sped. 
Still dragging from the coil below 
New links, as moves it upward slow 
And presses on ; — but not unseen ! 
With watchful eye and careful mien, 
The Panther saw their deep intent. 
And fiercely smiling o'er them bent, 
And listened, till he heard the low 
Faint crepitance of motion slow — 
Then drew aside, 'and rolled, alone, 



THE SIEGE. 43 



Close to the crevice-brink a stone ; 
Poised on its side the ponderous weight, 
(Dread engine of revenge and hate) 
And watched with cat-like vigilence, 
And murderous passion's deep suspense, 
Until, at last, a swarthy hand 
Reached out, and grappled in the sand, 
But insecure, was quickly thrown, 
With giant grasp upon the stone. 



The treacherous rock turned on its poise — 
And never yet was heard such voice — 
Such wail of anguish — crash, and groan — 
Shriek of despair — and sob, and moan — 
Commingled with the shock and jar, 
Like rolling thunders heard afar — 
Increasing, and receding, as 
The echoes chronicled the pass 
Of that huge messenger of Death, 
That left no living thing beneath ! 



Fierce gleamed the Panther's burning eye, 

As welling from the deep abyss, 
Arose the deep'ning crimson dye, 

Pressed from the hearts of enemies ! 
One yell of triumph from his tongue, 
Though crisp and parched, yet wildly rung. 
And startled with its magic thrill. 
The slumbering echoes of the hill — 
Till from its crag'd and creviced side 
It seemed a thousand tongues replied! 
And roused by its exulting tone, 
Like' beings bodied from the stone, 
The remnant of that little band 
Arose, as waiting for command, 
And looked defiance from their eyes, 
Filmed with the mist of future skies, 



44 o-\-.\-wk-quah; 

Whereto their kindred flesh had flown — 
Already claiming them their own ! 



Still stood old Ona-we-quah there, 

Unyielding ! great above despair ! 

Stern as the rock on "which he stood — 

As brave as great, as great as good! 

And gazed once more upon his clan 

In silence, viewing every man. 

Whose parched lips spoke not — and whose eyes, 

Deep-sunken, gave back no replies, 

As they were wont in other days 

When answering Ona-we-quah's gaze ! 

Then turning to his noble son. 

He said : '' the deed which thou hast done 

Is worthy of thy father's blood ! — 

Which long enough hath poured its flood 

Through mighty hearts, and noble veins! 

Yet while one drop of it remains — 

But no ! — it cannot be ! — no more, 

From heart to heart shall it still pour, 

Of chiefs illustrious as the Sun ! 

The Illinois' long race is run! 

Enough! Our daughters sleep in death! 

Our sons have yielded up their breath ! 

Our babes no longer cry for food ! 

Go look upon that famished brood, 

And say — shall still upon the nest 

The old bird ply his withered breast 1 

In vain ! No life can he impart — 

While dries the fountain at his heart ! 

No ! bravely let him seek his prey. 

And daring fling his life away! 

Lead on my son ! Of all my line. 

Thou art the last! Let it be thine. 

To lead thy father's spirit hence, 

To lands of nobler recompense ; 

Where twice ten-thousand souls shall greet 

With feast and dance our coming feet, 



THE SIEGE. 45 



And all our spirit-tribe rLjoice, 
Thou wer't the last brave Illixois !" 



The Panther listened to his sire, 
Whose words fell on his heart like fire 
From heaven ! and kindled in each vein 
Fresh burnings, nothing could restrain ! 
Then hurling through the rock' his voice, 
The war-cry of the Illinois — 
As o'er the craggy clifis it rung, 
Deep down the opening way he sprung; — 
Led on his men through that deep gorge, 
Once more a terror and a scourge ! 
Down, down they went, till reached below 
The cave 'round which thb waters flow — 
Now 'cumbered with the mangled dead, 
Piled high upon the petrous bed, 
Crushed, bleeding, torn, yet silent all — 
While o'er them hung a humid pall, 
Yet dripping with their own hearts' gore, 
That curdled on the damp cold floor, 
And stood in trembling masses there, 
As if instinctive still with fear. 
And shuddered as the Panther's feet 
Strode through it in his fierce retreat ! 



One moment in that dreadful hall, 

Itself a timid heart might 'pall. 

The Panther rested, till each Brave 

Had safely reached the gory cave ; 

And triumphed o'er the shapeless forms 

Of those who'd passed life's ruthless storms; 

And gazed exultant o'er the pile 

Of victims to his murderous wile ; 

Then turned, and met with flashing eye 

His father's, filled with prophecy, 

More truthful than the chaldean-stars 

E'er gave to learned astrologers : — 



46 O-N.V-WE-QUAH ; 



And speaking, us from other spheres, 
A hinguage which no tongue can tell ! 

Like Love's when answering through her tears- 

That melts the heart with sympathy, 

Which words, with all the melody 
Of song could never do so well ! 

A strange divinity of eye, 

Which meaner souls abashed will fly ! 

Which conquers by its majesty ! 



Such look was in the old man's face, 
As, turning from the deed he'd done, 
It fell upon that noble son — 

The last of all his princely race ! 
And thrilled with magic power his soul, 
That yielded not to love's control, 
Or fears ! — Not even to despair ! 
That look ! But once he met its glare — 
Nor dared again confront the spell, 
That spoke as from an oracle! 
For, till that moment, in his breast 
Had lingered, 'though not all at rest, 
A faith, a hope, still undefined ; 
A something subtler far than mind — 
An impress which coarse human mould 
Can never body forth — or hold 
Subservient to its fleshly thrall : — 
The Panther saw and felt that all. 
All now was over ! and again 
Led on their way his desperate men! 



Forth issuing from the cavern dank, 
They gained the river's shelving bank — 
Stood on its brink and gazed around, 
Undaunted, o'er the encumbered ground. 
Once more the startled rocks resound ! 
As from the hills descending came 
Like hung'ring winds, and thirsting flame, 



THE SIEGE. 47 



That host, which long had fed its hate 
On hopes grown almost desperate ! ^ 
But had they known by how much more 
Than hate, those warriors on that shore, 
Inspired by resolute decree 
To spend their lives more worthily, 
Had come — without a hope or fear — 
But only that it cost them dear 
Who purchase — and to exjnate 
The wrongs of unpropitious fate ! 
They'd not have come so boldly on — 
Or thought, already victory won ! 



Unmoved the Panther and his Braves 
Received the rude impulsive waves. 
Mad, furious, foaming, as if lashed 

By tempests, onward still they came — 
But like the waves on breakers dashed 

And broken, soon fell back the same. 
Yet left they many a WTeck behind 
Victims of passions madly-blind ! 
Whilst still defiance hurling back, 
With death-blows falling round their track, 
The Illinois maintained their stand. 
And dealt forth vengeance on each hand ! 
Still taunted they their foes with sneer! 
Shamed them for coward-woman's fear! 
Bade them go seek in yonder's cave 
Their brothers, in a bloody grave ! 
Laughed at the dead around them strewn, 
And urged their savage natures on ! 



What need ! At length Wau-bon-sie came 
In rage with which all else were tame! 
Led on his men— and with his arm, 
Protected by some Prophet's charm, 
("eased not to strike, till, one by one, 
All but the aged -sire and so)i, 



48 o-N'.v-wE-yLAii; 



Of that bra^'e band the earth had pressed, 
With life extinguished in each breast : 
Whilst they, lirin-staudiiig, side by side, 
The honors of their race divide! 
With arms unscathed they held at bay 
The menial warriors — strong as they 
In limbs— but not in souls — which make 
Heroes god-like ! and cowards quake 
Before that all prevading sense 
Of greatness, like omnipotence, 
Which flashes from the eye of worth 
And quells the soul of meaner birth ! 



Wau-bon-sie 'bating then his rage. 
Which blood alone might not assuage — 
Beholding those proud chieftains stand, 
The last of all their house and band ! 
Waved back his men — and bade them yield, 
With promise of their lives, the field ! 
The Panther made him no rcjily — 
; But turned away disdainfully, 
As if to mark the fer-oft' sky, 

Which hung above so peacefully ! 
Whilst Ona-we-quah calmly said : — 
" No ! ne\-er ! Here among the dead — 
My brothers, and my children, I 
Must finish my career and die ! 
Strike ! I am worthy of thy brand ! 
'Though age hath withered my strong hand — 
And he alone is left, of all 
Who once obeyed my regal call : 
Strike ! for 'I spurn the life thou would'st give — 
And would not turn on my heel to live!'" 



'• Not thine the choice !" the chief returned, 
As on his brain the proud words burned : 
"Thy ancient liiubs my men shall l^ind — 
And thou, my (.-iptive, when confuied, 



THE SIEGE. 49 



With him, that son, whom once I spared; 
And all my generous board hath shared — 
Both, both shall grace my captive throng, 
Bound hand and foot with many a thong : 
And then, where stands the burning stake. 
We '11 see whose coward limbs shall quake ! 
And know, old chief! whate'er betide. 
Thy tortures equal shall thy pride !" 



But ere the Potawattomie 
Had ceased, there came a signal cry, 
From, undern^eath the shelving side 
That marked the bound'ry of the tide^ 
Which startled, as from out the tomb. 
The Panther shrouded there in gloom, 
Scorning alike captivity. 
Or freedom, to do aught but die ! 
When on his ear that signal fell 
Too early known — too long — too well ! 
Though fear had conquered not, his soul 
Shrunk flying under love's control — 
And with one leaj) he scaled the edge 
Of that precipitous dark ledge ! 
A shout was heard far down below- 
Then, like an arrow from a bow 
Shot forth, appeared upon the view 
The spectre of a frail canoe — 
That like a spirit skimmed the wave 
Bearing away the rescued Brave ! 
For none believed that mortal hand 
Gave to it motion or command — 

Much less a timid maid could do ! 
Some thought they saw a maiden's form — 
Some, but the shadow of an arm — 

Wau-bon-sie only knew ! 
And felt the crimson of its shame 
SpTcad o'er his proud exultant fr-ame 

And (lash lys burning puises' throuf^h ! 
(7) With deadly hale, and (k'adly aim, 



50 O-NA-AVKQl'AII ; 



His bloody axe in vengeance came. 

Aiid glanced like lightning through the air, 

A fearful death-winged messenger! 



As bending, di])ped the slender oar. 
Full at the maiden's swelling side 
The infuriate chief his skill had tried — 

Oh God ! Ijut for one moment more ! 

But no! It must not, cannot be! 

Thy pure fond heart's, warm flowing tide 
Must gush from out that w^ounded side 

And stain thy form with hues, that he 

Thv father! 'will exult to see. 



And is it thus thou art repaid 

For all thy toil ajid trust fair maid? 

This the reward for all that thou 

Hast suffered — hopefully, till now'? 

For all thy love, so fond, so pure — 

For which e'en death thou w^ouldst endure? 

Fair victim vi^ love's constancy ! 
Man loves but feebly! woman dies, 
Still clinging to the heart's dear prize, 

Unmindful of its treachery ! 



All eyes were turned with fixed intent 
Upon the wrath-sped instrument. 
True to its instincts and its aim — 
Yet all mistook the fated game. 
Nor dreamed the chieftain's only child 
Whom every warrior's heart beguiled 
With beauty, bravery, and trust. 

Was she to fall beneath that blow — 
Was she to feel that dreadful thrust — 

And yet they felt no common foe 
Deserving of such fearful skill — 
Such might, and energy of will, 



THE SIEGE. 51 



And ann, and heart, as moved the chief 
To hurl Avith such malignant foi'ce 
Ilis brand, unerring in its course, 

And aimed to strike with deadly grief! 



Unerring — had the Panther's eye 

Less truthful or less piercing been — 
His own axe leaped into the sky 

Obedient to his senses keeii — 
And met midway, with sudden shock 

And paralysing power the blade 
"Which trembled, as with palsy struck. 
Shivered, and fell upon the rock, 

Leaving unscathed the beauteous maid ! 



" Well done my boy !" The old man cried, 

Exulting in a father's pride — 

Then waved the flying pair adieu ! 

While round the rock the light canoe 

By Nee-nah's had still safely steered, 

Lost in the shadows disappeared ! 

" Ours be the quarrel !" then he said : 

" Come on !" A thousand arrows sped 

Prom strings a thousand foemen pressed — • 

And pierced old 0-na-we-quah's breast ! 

Without a groan, without a sigh, 

He sunk, still gazing on the sky, 

Whereto his noble spirit fled — 

To join the brave — the beautiful — the dead ! 



THE END. 



isailatteotts loms. 



MISCErXAXEOl'S POEMS. 55 



THE OLD OAK TREE. 



The old Ocak tree! look yonder where it stands — 
Its rough bark ribbed and wrinkled o'er with years! 

Sj^reading its arms Made ont with generous hands — • 
Undaunted — great above all hopes or fears ! 



Winter hath stripped it now of all its leaves, 

And torn the garments from its strong-nerved boughs — 

Above all sorrows, too, it never grieves; 

But looks composure from its mighty brows. 



Spring now is coining ; soon will its strong heart 
ilenew its motion, and each swelling vein 

The nutrient flood ])car on. Fi'esh buds shall start, 
And blossoms cluster o'er its limbs again. 



And Summer's hand shall finish its rich robe — 
An Emperor's cloak enfold it — ^^born a king 

O'er all the wooded Empires of the globe ! 
Sealed at its birth with Nature's signet-ring. 



Calm, dignified, and noble — as I gaze 

I almost worship its majestic form, 
And draw still nearer ; tongue] ess in my praise — 

AM'ed, as its leaves are by approaching storm ! 



Stem, unropiiiing, generous, hero-born — 
Bearing umaovcd its mighty destiny — 

Naked or clad— whom flattery nor scorn 
Can change vv buw — this, this is^ majesty ! 



56 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 



DOWN THE LANE. 



Down the long lane, in the country, 
Stood a Cottage fair to see ; 

Shaded 'round with creeping ivy ; 
Shaded 'round with many a tree; 

And a Paradise it seemeth, 
Passing fair, in memory. 



Down the long lane, in the country, 
Lived a ]\Iaiden, nameless here ! 

Lovelier than the flowers around her, 
Purer than the pearliest tear; 

And an Ang(^l now she seemeth. 
As in dreams she draweth near ! , 



Down the long l;uie, in the country. 
Fennel now, and weeds have grown ! 

Yet, when e'er i pass along it 

Shadows o'er my path are throwni ; 

Ancient shadows, that come o'er me 
As from out another zone! 



Down the long lane, in the country. 
Time has wrough fidl many a change ; 

Thither; now, no spirit "^voes me-^- 
Seldtna there my foot-steps range : 

And the way-side love-deserted. 
Coldly seemeth, lone, iind strange ! 



MISCELI.AN-EOU^ r(iKM3. 57 



WINTER RAIN. 



How dreary is the winter ruin — 

How dismal, and how dark the iiour — 
How hitter, and how cold the shower, 

Tlaat never seems the clouds to drain ! 



How spiritless the winter rain. 

It hath no voice to make it grand ! 

No lightnings leap from out the hand 
That drives it o'er the land and main ! 



There is no cheer in ^\illter rain, 

Like that which falls in April days — 
Which swelling buds, and flowel-s all praise- 

And brings forth laughter from the phiin ! 



The groves lament t.he winter rain. 
Bereft of all their Summer leaves — 
Their bare arms dripping like the eaves, 

Are stiffened, it would seem, with pain! 



Nor man, nor beast loves winter rain. 
It brings no joy — suggesteth none ! 
It comes with sigh, and wail, and m.oan- 
(8) It chills the heart, and chill* the brain. 



58 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



I O N E 



I'm not alone ! 
For thy sweet 'semblance, as a constant lover's 
Forever near me, like a spirit hovers, 

Fairest lone ! 



All night in dreams, 
My soiil inviting doth thy form receive — 
My lips to thine in rapturous kisses cleave 

Till rooming sleams ! 



From early Spring, 
When floral morning first begins to dawn, 
Till eve-like Autumn speads out o'er the lawn 

Her russet wing — 



Still thou art there, 
Forever near me, and forever dear ! 
Lighting my griefs as friendship lights a tear, 

Thou more than fair ! 



When northern winds 
With wintry voices wail along the shore. 
Or summer zephyrs woo me from the door 

Among the vines ; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 59 



In lands remote, 
Where to old Ocean Hudson pours its tide, 
Or Mississippi rolls in all his pride^ 

It matters not ; 



The same art thou ! 
A magic presence, born to the within, 
From memory of that which might have been, 

But may not now. 



Lovely lone ! 
Wer't thou but real — and this heart of mine, 
As constant, pure and loving still as thine — 

Our life as one ; 



What joy to me 
Thus to embrace thee ! E'en thy spirit form 
Thrills me with pleasure — and my pulses warm 

With thoughts of thee! 



60 WISCKM-ANKOUS POEMS, 

THE MAID AND THE POOR. 



Out, out, all is light — • 

All is bright! 
And the snow all aglow, 
Sparkles, and dazzles the maiden's eye 

As she i^asses by. 

In her furs and her hood, 

And her youthful blood, 

She seemeth good 

As she passes by — 

And the rosy hue 
Of her cheek, and the blue 
Of her eye, like the sky, 
Through which angels might gaze 
With the holiest rays 
Of love— but why, why, why — 
Why do I fear, my maiden dear 
Is not what she seemeth to be? — 

Because I know the winds may blow, 

And the Ice-King reign 

O'er land and main — 

With frosty chain, 
Linking the limbs of the suffering poor ! 

Piercing with pain 
The shivering, hungry, fireless poor! 

With merciless pain, 
Crushing the hearts of the dying poor. 

And I know this maid hath passed their door 
Her purse well filled with golden store, 

With her furs and hood, 

And her youthful blood. 

In a haughty mood — 

Nor stopped nor stood, 
Nor looked, nor thought, nor cared for the poor ! 



MISCELLANKOUS POEMS. 61^ 



A P II I L 



April is here ! 
Another segment in the magic ring 

That circles 'round the earth ! tl¥^ Seasons' zone — ■ 
And brings fresh gladness, and bright joys that spring 
Prom hopes renewed, and promises its own — 
Gem of the year ! 

April is here ! 
An emerald clasp, that joins the rough and rude 

With all that's smooth and lovely ! — M^rch and May. 
A thousaiid jewels o'er its surface strewed, 
With beauty sparkle in the morning's ray, 
Brilliant and clear ! 

April is here ! 
And with it come, what light, and life, and love ! 

The laughing rivulet, and smiling flowers — 
Leaves, buds and blossoms — and within the grove 
What charming voices hymn the morning hours 
With praise sincere ! 

April is here! * 

Along the sedgy margm of the Lakes 

Are many marriages. The forest boughs 
Are all hymenial altars. Love awakes » 

Wherever life is, breathing out its vows 
To gladdened ear ! 

April is here ! 
Once more ! — and with it, ah ! what memories ! 

'Mid all this life, and love, there's many a heart 
Feels yet the wanting — deeper feels when these 
Remind them of the lost — and tears will start — 
Quick April tears ! 



G2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE LOST AND BEAUTIFUL ONE. 



There's a tear in my heart, and a tear in my eye, 

Never dry ! 
There's a fear in my breast ; when I Avork, when I rest, 
I'm oppressed, 
•' And I sigh ■ 
Eor the love of the lost and the beautiful one ! 



There's a frown on my heart, and a frown on my brow; 

(Sorrows plow — ) 
And I moan low and deep, when awake, when asleep, 

And I weep — 

Then, and now, 
For the love of the lost and the beautiful one ! 



There's a scar on my heart, and a scar on my tongue, 

'Though I'm young — 
And a sore that I fell, though Ide'l, will not heal — 
. And I reel 

Conscience stung — 
When I think of the lost and the beautiful one ! 



There's a tale in my heart — a dark story within. 

Of my sin — 
And I pale, and I start, and my heart seems to part 

With the smart— 

For I've been, 
O ! how false, to the lost and the beautiful one ! 



MlS(.:iiLLANh:uU.S I'UKMS. 



63 



NOVEMBER NIGHT. 



November night! behold! the winds have burst 
Their prison bars, and sweep along the vale ! 

The gentle zephyrs on cold biers lie hearsed, 
Borne far away before the rising gale ! 

Tlie brown-haired forest trees their locks have rent, 

And strown upon 'the earth with deep lament! 



No longer now from hazel-copse, or grove, 
Is heard the Whip-poor-will's familiar song ; 

Nor o'er the marsh is seen, lighting his love. 
The gallant fire-Hy 'n^id a starry throng ! 

No more from yon lone pool the grave old frog 

Sounds his hoarse notes through evening's silvery fog. 



No more the cricket, or grasshopper sings — 
Or Katy-did's dispxitc among the leaves ; 

No more the Robin folds to rest his 'wings. 
Or Swallows twitter from our nest-built eaves ! 

These, too, have died — or vanished like the bloom, 

Leaving November cheerless as the tomb! 



Alas ! the clianges since the songs of May — 
The fragrance and the luxury of June ; 

The golden ,pom]3 of August — with its lay 
Of busy reapers, as the fields they prune! 

E'en Dolphin-like October's dying hues 

Were beautiful, and loved by every muse! 



04 MlSCELLANliOLS I'OEMH. 



Yet listen! there tu'e sounds abroad to-niirlit ! 

The grove is not all silent — thongh its voice 
Speaks only of its sorrows, and the blight 

Of tyrant blasts, that Nei'o-like rejoice, 
Whilst ruin, as a conflagration bares 
Its structure rude — nor life nor beauty spares. 



Hark, too, the laoaning of fhe pine-clad hills — 
That stahd like towei-s between us and' the sea, 

Old Michigan ! whose voice majestic fills 
The mind with awe, and wakes subliinity ! 

Hear the waves roar — and the wild harmony 

Of winds, that pipe their surf-keyed minstrelsy ! 



High over all, bleached by tlie wintry moon. . 

Like snow-fields drift the light and flaky. cloiids. 
Distant and cold they seem — yet all too soOn 

To wra]> the world about with death-like slirouds ! 
Already Bor'eas hath his trumpet bloMii, 
And Nature answered with deep sighs and moan. 



November night! Ah me ! how many hearts 
Have also their dead flovvers, and fallen leaves! 

When love bo longer life or warmth imparts, 

Hope moon-like inofcks, and memory o'er them grieves ! 

Spring to the groves fresh beauty soon will bring — 

The broken heart hath no returning Spring. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 65 



THE MAIDEN'S TOWER. 
A LEGEND OF HUNGARY. 



'In Sehemitz lived, in olden time, 

A man, whose heart was set on gam; 

Nor ever lent to love or rhyme, 

Nor ever swelled with prayerful strain. 



Day after day, in caverns damp 
And dark recess, he dug the ore, 

And counted, by his midnight lamp, 
In secret, all his sparklmg store. 



At length, so rapidly his pile 
Increased, his fellow-miners knew, 

That Demons with their magic wile, 
Had joined him to their hellish crew. 



And thus it was ! — so vast his store — 
So flist his wealth had multiplied— 

In vain he strove to count it o'er, 
And unrepentant — sudden died ! 



Him and his son — his only boy — 

Unshrived ! The miscreants from below. 

Laughed as they came with fiendish joy. 
To drag them down to realms of woe! 



An only daughter, Barbara, 

Was left to claim his wealth ill-got, ' 
And as she grew from day to day. 

Fresh beauties crowned her wond'rous lot! 



GQ ' MISCELLANKOrS POEMS. 



Vain uas she of hci* wealth, and vain 
Of beauty which no .mortal shared. 

She thought with wealth to banish ])ain — 
With beauty, Heaven's revenge she dared! 



Loose lemans then she gathered 'round 

And lords of pleasure gay and yoinig ; 
Tier house was as enchauted ground — 
With revelry and music rung. 



And feast and dance, and every joy 
That gold could buy or beauty bring, 

So varied, never yet to cloy—. 

So constant, life seemed ever Spring ! 



And thus she lived, and thus — but why 
One morning all so still wdthin % 

Had IleaveJi avenged from out the sky 
On her, the loathsomeness of sin ? 



Not all on her ! high from a tree 
That canopied her window's height, 

ITer lovers hanging, one, tM'o, three. 

Swung back and forwaixl, day and night. 



Night after night the wind did blow — 
Strange voices fdled the air around ; 

Still swung her lovers to and fro. 

And creaked their chains with mournful sound. 



All ghastly stared each countenance. 
And each on Barbara did gaze. 

As on their forms she oft did glance 

ITer eves, that seemed with tire to blaze! 



MISCELLANEOUS I'OKMS. 



G7 



Long time, nor feast nor revelry, 

Was lu'ard those charmed walls within ; 

Some said "that from the Devil she 
Her soul, if penitent, might win !" 



Then Barhara who scorned to hear 
Such said, besought the judges fair, 

That they would move her friends so dear 
From ^)Ut the ever hungering air ! 



But said the judges sternly " nay ! 

Still let them waste, till every bone 
Disclose its terrors, Barbara: 

Tor thee— and thy souFs good alone ! 



Go look upon their forms — and when 
Thy followers are feasting high 

With mirth and song— go listen then — 
And hear them to the night winds sigh." 

Then promised she, with oaths to spare, 

Would they but take the bodies down, 
That she would build a castle there, 
. And leave it to her native town. 



Then were the judges mollified. 

And said "Ave grant thy just request, 

Soon let thy towers be edified. 

And thou by all the world be blessed!" 



And bnilded she a castle strong 

In Schemnitz, fenced with silver wall. 

Where Hows the siiarkliug Gran_ along 
And answers to the mountain's call. 



68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 



But ere the castle's tower was reared- 
Ere yet the corner stone was laid, 

In all her ancient ways appeared — 
Magnificent in sin — the maid ! 



The castle walls were almost done, 

Tlie tower went beetling through the air^ 
High up the massive pile had won ; 

Its way, and proudly rested there. 

And Barbara was bolder yet ; 

And spread her banquet on the side 
Gf Gran's tliir stream, where gaily met 

Her wassailers to feast her pride. 



Then murmured all the citizens 

And said — " No good can come of this !" 
And oracles from priestly pens 

l^oreshadowed doom of wickedness ! 



And one foretold that poverty 

Swift-winged, indignant heaven would send; 
At w hich she laughed — vain Barbara ! 

And scorned her sinful ways to mend. 



Then from her jeweled hand she drew 

A costly ring disdainfully. 
And far into the waters threw 

The sparkling band of jewelry : 



And said Avith scornful lip " as sure 
As this 1 never more shall see, 

My bounteous treasures shall endure, 
Nur heaven indignant froA\'n on me." 



MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS. 



But ere the impious words were said 
The lady's pride was changed to fear ; 

The favorite of her house fell dead — 
Her dog — she'd cherished many a year! 

And loved — perhaps her only love, 

That changed not with her foncy's change- 

And now her constancy to prove — 

That death could not her heart estrange; 

She biu'ied him with pomp and show, 
With Christian burial, and rite ! 

But soon the grave began to glow 
With heat— and ghastly lurid light — 



And round about, the gaping earth 

Ope'd wide its lips with parting flame ! 

Fierce tongues of tire leaped Hissing forth- 
Huge rocks, ignited, burning came, 



And rent the air with shock and groan! 

Then sunk again, and darkness left : 
But grave of man, or dog, was none ! 

And in the earth's deep side was cleft 



A pit, all bottomless and dread ! 

And tiends were heard to laugh deep down- 
And wail of anguish, from the dead 

That slept not, mingled with the sound. 



The tower was finished — and the maid, 

Still unrepentant, banqueted 
Once more her friends — more costly laid 

The cloth, with ^•iands richly spread. 



6i) 



70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



And Barliara to carve tho lish 

Fresh taken from the silvery Gran, 

Arose — but lo ! upon the dish 
Fell out her jeweled iingcr-span ! 



Then turned the lady pale with dread 
Keinem Bering each dire prophecy — 

Nor tasted she of wine or bread : 
But stared as if gaunt poverty, 



And luniger, dread of tooth and eye — 

And leprous sin, all pestilent 
With damp cold breath, were standing by,|^ 

And touching her with hnjjers bent : 



And whispering in her pale round ear. 
That felt no tinge of blood the while, 

Some secret awfulness to hear ! 
For i;iever after did she smile : 



But like a gh:)st kept nightly hours, 

And wandered through the lonely halls — 

Now where the dungeon's darkness lowers, 
She listened to mvsterious calls — • 



Which none might hear but she alone ! 

Her wealth all vanished — soon she died- 
And found to bury her, were none, 

For all, her beauty, wealth and pride! 



At length some ancient fi-iends, from shame, 
With shroud and coffin rudely made, | 

In secret to the castle came, , 

And tremblinu-. in the bodv laid! 



MISCELLANEOUS P0KM3. 



But e'er lliey reached the o])en gr;n"e, 
lied lightnings danced, along the sky — 

Mad thunders through the clouds did rave, 
And hailstones blinded soon each eve! 



Then dro])p.d they doMTi in fear and awe, 
Their riiisaT-ss — gazing on the brow 

"Of heaven's great majesty — and law 
Proclaiming judgment on them now ! 



Dark, hideous, full of wrath, and woe — ■ 
All nature seemed transformed ! The air 

To giant winds mad wrestling — lo ! 
And all the clouds red in their slare ! 



And underneath, midw;iy between 
The doleful pit, and brazen sky, 

The pelting hail, each drop was seen. 
Changed to a hound with hellish cry 



Each dog a fiend ! that howling fell 
Upon the corpse, and bore away 

The body, dragging down to hell, 
The maiden — sinful Barbara ! 



In witness of this truthful tale, 

Tlie maiden's tower in Schemnitz still 

Lifts up its battlements, nor fail 
Its never lying chronicle ! 



72 MISCELLAXEOrS POEMS> 



THE FOREST CEMETERY. 



i 

if I were now to choose my resting place^ | 

The spot of earth whereto I would return ■; 

When life's gray twilight darkens into death^ — 
'Twould b'e beneath the lofty leafy arch 
Of " God's first temples," with their mossy aisles, 
And wondrous domes, flir from the haunts of man ! 
For therewithin is a calm holiness, 
A deep toned worship, not of human form, 
From out the very hearts of Nature's best 
And purest children, uncommuncd with creeds ! 
Where voice of birds, and whispering leaves, and boughs 
Of reverential trees, with perfumed flowers, ^ 
Mingle their incense with the organed wind, 
Filled with brave anthems and melodious songs ! 
There let ]iie lie — there let me rest and sleep ! 
Not that my bed were softer, or my rest 
More calmly beautiful ! It matters not 
To me, whether my body, mortal and frail 
(Short haljitude of the undying self, 
That seeks a lovelier mansion in the realms 
Of that all-wondrous world tOAvard which we fly,) 
Becomes the food of mossy-toothed Decay, 
Or feeds the fishes of the bruiy deep — 
Smoulders beneath the overdosing sod. 
Or mingles with the vapors of the winds ! 
That is material, and must serve again 



MISCELLAXEOrS POEMS. 



The purposes of God in his great work : 
But for the living would I choose my tomb! 
That, if perchance a living wanderer 
This side eternity should seek the spot, 
Led by the links of memory to my grave, 
'Twould be a place congenial with the thought, 
In harmony vv^ith feelings prompted there. 
And suitable for musings, such as man 
Should yield his soul to when he contemplates 
The universe of God, himself, his being, 
Life, changes, and his final destiny ! 

Not underneath monastic aisles — nor yet 
Within the liosom of a pyramid— 
Nor in a columned sepulchre of stone — 
Nor in the art-encumbered cemet'ry — 
Nftr in the churchyard's gloom, with palings round 
Where voice of Sectary might echo o'er — 
But ill the lonely wood ! 

No, not the lone ! 
For there is life ,in .every lovely tree, 
And beauteous warblers in each bending bough, 
All innocent, and full of cheerful praise, 
Thanksgiving hymns, and worship nature taught ! 
Where he who comes to weep (T wish it not) 
Might lend his ear to the Almighty's voice, 
Pouring in the spirit of creative love 
Through every chani;iel of his feeling sense, 
Stilling the passions born of earth and Eve, 
And niingling in his heart a cup of joy 
From which his soul might drink, and feel, uideed, 
This hath, no touch of bitterness ! 

If it might be, I would a strolling rill 
Should flow along beneath the shady elms, 
With silvery tongues tinkling the pebble-bells — 
Where laughing childhood, sportive on its banks, 
Might dip its dimpled limbs in the pure waves, 
Playful and innocent ! and elder girls \ 

Weave for its joyous brow chaplets of flowers, 
Fr('sh sprung (rom ont thc^ warm and initrieut mould, 
(10) Through the long night of wiut'.'f hlank-^teil 



MISCELLAN£OCrS POEMS. 



With leaves spread by November winds around, 
Dropped from the shoulders of the bounteous wood. 

Firstlings of spring ! 
How beautiful they seem. ! Ere yet a bud 
Has tipped the fingers of the bare-armed trees, 
Peeping fi-om underneath some smouldering limb 
Returning slowly back — not into dust — 
But life and beauty in its comrades o'er — 
Or from the sheltered nook, or simny side 
Of walnut brown, or silvery maple-tree j 
Speaking with eyes so spirtually pure 
The praise of him who " doeth all things well," 
Yet in the holy sanctu'ry of the grove 
Breathes first his resurrecting breath, and says 
Unto his meek-eyed children of the wood 
Sleeping in death, " Come forth in purity !" 



MISCELLANEOUS POKMS. 73 



L I L L I E 



Lillie sleeps in the garden; 
Sweet she sleeps in the orchard; 

She lies there all alone : — 
But sleeps as sweet in the garden, 
As if she slept in church-yard, 

Beneath the pallid stone. 

She lies there where the apple 
Will blossom above her grave, 

And drop flowers on her tomb ; — 
Where clover leaves shall dapple 
When summer's breath shall wave, 

And sunlight chase the gloom. 

'Twas in the bare November — ■ 
No orchard bloom or clover, 

No flowers on the ground; — 
When there — I well remember, 
We placed the cover over 

Sweet Lil', without a sound. 

No falling clod to wake her. 
Or jar the silent feeling 

Of grief with sudden start : — 
' O God ! wilt thou how take her' 
A lipless prayer was stealing 

Aloft from every heart. 

When spring comes, we will go there 
And fix the sods above "her, 

A blanketing of green : — 
And brightest flowers shall blow there, 
Bedewed, from hearts that love her. 

With tears of diamond sheen. 



ih M(.S(i:i.i,AM 



IN M E ]\1 O R I A il 
(o. c. E.) 



Ah ine ! ah me ! how strange a thing is man ! 
How feeble oft — and yet how strong the force 
That widens out or narrows his life-span — 
Arrests his steps or speeds him on his course. 
Mysterious power ! Mysterious in its soui'ce, 
Yet guided ever by an unseen hand, 
That can the spirit from its clay divorce, . 
Or wed them with an age-enduring band, 
Though pestilence and war spread over all the land. 



Lo ! the wrecked seaman, on a floating spai*, 
Bruised by the elements, hungry and chill — • 
Tlirough sunless days, and nights without a star, 
Life ne'er deserts him, and hope lingers still. 
E'en his own flesh he gnaws — extremest ill ! 
And yet survives a thousand hardships more ; 
At ninety years, when children's children fill 
His pipe, he tells tliem tales of sea and shore — 
Adventures of his youth, recounts them o'er and o'er! 



Not such thy fate ! — wKose spirit was too pure 
!For common wedlock with vile human dust ; 
In youth's glad prime when life seem'd most secure, 
With lips still redolent of hope, and trust — 
Thy brow unwrinkled, in thy heart no rust — 
Ambitious, and j^et loving ; mild though brave : 
Gen'rous and noble; merciful and just — 
No " gums medicinal" thy life could save, 
Borne in thy beauty's bloom untimely to the grave ! 



MISC'KLLAN-KOrS POKM^. 



Not such thy fate, my Brother ! 'Hiou whose form 
Beneath the sands of jainder hillock sleeps. 
Breathless and silent, while the wintry storm 
Unheeded o'er thy cold bfed wildly sweeps ! 
Not siich thy fate ! for whom my heart still weeps, 
Building in thought a monument of tears : 
'Round which my love, still gi'een, like ixy creeps, 
And shades the tomb which underneath appears. 
Its roots spread Avide in the moist memory of years ! 



Yet thou art not forever lost to me ! 
Thy spirit-shadow falls within my door, 
And not a room's untenanted by thee — 
Although thy steps resound i^ot on my floor ! 
And I am drawing near thee ever more ! 
Midway upon the Bridge, I see below 
The mighty river; a-iui beyond, the shore 
Whence thou art lighting me, with spirit glow, 
Along each rugg'd arch that spans life's mystic flow ! 



MISr-ELLANEOrS POEMS. 



?\I A Y SONG. 



1 would not sing a song of May, 

Were not my heart so full of love 
I cannot choose — canndt refuse — 
But sing I must the happy lay. 
All hail to May ! 
The charming May! 
The fresh, the glad, the blooming May ! 
The smiling, joyous, lovely May! 

My heart is full of songs of. Spring, 
As is the tuneful Eobin's breast ; 
But none so sweet as those that greet 

Tlie days that come on May's bright wing! 
Oh days of May ! 
The m"erry May! ' 

The bright, the green, the sparkling May ! 
The cheerful, friendly, laughing May ! 

There's not a cloud in yondei- sky! 

The morning's breath is sweet as Love's ! 
The meadows green, the groves serene, 
Reflect thy beauties on the eye. 
Oh beauteous May! 
The matchless May ! 
The smooth, the soft, the velvet May ! 
The soothing, modest, wimiing May ! 

I had a love once, all riiy own : 

And she was like the gentle May ! 
Ah-well-a-day ! ah-wcU-a-day ! ■ 

May too, will fly, as Love hath flown ! 
It cannot stay ! 
It will away ! 
The dear, the lost, regretted May ! 
How mourning comes with joy — sweet May! 



MISCELLANEOUS i'OEMis. 



71) 



S U N L 1 G n T 



The storm hath passed ! 

From dark to gray ; 
The clouds are thmned and drawn away, 
Their wave-like crests are turned to spray- 
Flecking the blue, as down the bay 

They float, how fast! 

One by one, 

Till lost are they 

In liaht at last ! 



Now breaks the light ! 

Joy, joy, how bright ! 
See how yon silvery dome is lit! 

Look at the spire — 

A heavenly fire 
With molded slow surrounding it ! 



What means it? See! 

The village white 

New painted seems ! 

Ah! glorious light! 
And you blue hills that o'er the lea ; 

From left to right 
Flinu down their shadows — as in drcain* 



80 



XU^^CKLI.AXEOrS rOEMS. 



They woiikl embrace the gentle lawn, 

Feel this delight ' 

Shed from the bosom of the sun ! 



And those tall trees, 

Forever green ! 
Their dusky boughs late full of gloom — 
Lo ! through them stealing — where the breeze 
Was wont to loiter, and the wind 
Pierce them with sighs — 
The smilight joyous now is seen! 
No bush nor shrub it does not find, 
Baptizing them in Heavenly dyes ! 



And we — 
Our hearts are touched with love 

That melting swims into our eyes. 
As Ave behold from realms above 

Such glory streaming through the skies ! 



Thanks, thanks, great King ! 
We feel thy bounty, and we do rejoice ; 
AVc harp thy praises, and with humble voice 

Thy blessings sing ! 



"l^^ 





t: . 


■ , 



tMMMMM^^^^^H| 


1 1 


iT^^^^^^^^^^^^H 


1^ 1 




